Ripples in Still Water
by Fettkat
Summary: Skywalker family drabbles. Featuring Ben Skywalker and a host of other characters.
1. Dance

**A/N : So, yeah. This has been in my mind for a while, to start a drabble thread featuring the EU Skywalker family. Finally collected enough to start off with. I shall be updating these as often as possible. Pls note they are NOT in any particular chronological order.**

**Hope everyone enjoys! **  
**Standard rules of procedure: Please R & R!**

******Dance**

Leia smiled up at her newlywed nephew, willingly accepting his outstretched hand and allowing herself to be led out on to the dance floor. They started a slow waltz, and despite herself, she was still surprised by his sure grace. She shook her head slightly. One of these days she would have to give up the habit of thinking of him as the irrepressibly mischievous little child and recognize him for the elegant and reserved young man and Knight he had become.

"Credit for your thoughts, Aunt Leia."

She smiled.  
"Oh it's nothing. Just thinking you look so handsome today."

The smirk he'd picked up from her husband flashed upon his lips.  
"Does that mean I don't everyday?"

Nope. That kid was still hidden somewhere within him.  
Leia punched him playfully on the arm.

His smirk only grew wider and he twirled her around.  
"Come on now, you know you were just asking for it, Aunt Leia."

His eyes, his radiant smile. It reminded her with a pang of the identical expression her brother, his father had worn at his own wedding oh, about 35 years ago.

She looked deep into his comfortingly familiar blue gaze, seeing in their depths things hidden from most others.  
"You're missing Mom today, aren't you?"

"So much."  
He made no effort to hide the deep longing in his voice from her.

She nodded.  
"And I miss Anakin and Jacen."

She thought he looked startled for a second, but then he nodded as well.  
"Yeah. They ought to have had weddings too."

They regarded each other with the same sad smiles, remembering shared sorrows.  
"Oh look at us! A mother without her sons and a son without his mother. This is your wedding day! We shouldn't be talking about such things!"

She felt his hand about her waist stiffen ever so slightly and his smile was shakier than usual.  
"It's ok, Aunt Leia. It's good to remember."

Leia glanced over to where her brother was sharing a dance with his new daughter-in-law. She hadn't seen him quite this happy in many, many years. Something in her soul eased at the sight.

"He'll make a good father-in-law, won't he?"  
The affection in her nephew's tone was hard to miss.

"He looks almost as happy as he had at his own wedding, dancing with your mom."

Ben's voice was heartbreakingly quiet as he spoke after a brief pause.  
"I never had a dance with Mom. I never got the chance."


	2. Shy

**Shy**

You'd never think it to look at me now, but I was always shy as a child. I would hide behind the folds of my father's robes, or lag behind my mother whenever they took me to visit people and places outside my home or my aunt and uncle's. Whether it was the Jedi Temple, or Starfighter Command, or onboard the _Wild Karrde_, I would prefer to observe, to be the child seen, but not heard.

The grown-ups would try and engage me, they would bend down and smile, offer me candy, but I would only give them my customary shy little smile, before withdrawing, back into the warm and safe sanctuary my parents' shadow provided.

It wasn't until one time, when I was quietly playing inside the cockpit of my father's X-Wing and suddenly looked up to find him nowhere to be seen, replaced by a man with laughing brown eyes who had lifted me out and introduced me to a big, stuffed Ewok named Lieutenant Kettch, that I found my first friend.

**A/N: This is not to take away anything from Ben's mischievousness. He was only shy in front of people outside his family ;)**


	3. Virgin

**A/N: My take on the subject, a little different from Onimiman's.**

**Set just before Ben's assassination mission in the book LoTF: Sacrifice.**

**Virgin**

"So this is your first time, isn't it?"

"Uh... y-yeah..."

"You're GAG? How old are you?"

"Fourteen."

*whistle*

"That's a little too young, don't you think?"

"It's a little young to be doing this too."

"So why are you?"

"The guys said it was...umm...tradition."

"Tradition?! What kind of a tradition?"

"A man ought to know a woman before he goes on his first mission."

"How's that now?"

"In case I don't come back."

*brief silence*

"Come here then. I 'll show you what to do."


	4. Sacrifice

**Sacrifice**

We were standing on the Temple rooftop, Valin and I, late one afternoon. We found it more peaceful than even the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The endless rhythm of Coruscant's traffic could often prove oddly soothing.

I asked him,  
"If you weren't a Jedi, Valin, what do you think you'd be?"

Valin gave a twisty sort of smile.  
"Aww, you know that. I'd be a musician. Same as you.

I grinned.  
"We'd be rockstars..."

"Oh yeah. Definitely."

"Do you... you know, regret sometimes... being a Jedi?"

He gave it some thought.  
"No... not really."

He turned around, slapping me on the back, with the kind of smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.  
"Savin' the galaxy and givin' up dreams, it's what we do, bruv!"


	5. Rain

**A/N: This is my personal favourite, out of all the drabbles I've written so far. I think there are just too few Mara-Ben moments out there. They make the most adorable pair to write! **

**Pls. do review if you read! **:)

**Rain**

It was the first time he'd seen rain and she could tell that he was instinctively besotted with it. She watched the sparkle and smile of utter elation as fat raindrops fell on his upturned face and he tried to taste them on his tongue. His red mop was plastered down around his forehead and he held out his hands eagerly, trying to catch the drops but giggling when they splattered against his palm.

"Ben! That's enough!" she called.  
"It's time to go home now."

He turned flashing her a mischievous little grin, the spark still alive in his bright blue eyes. She knew what that meant._ Come and catch me!_

And he took off, making sure to splash in each and every puddle in his path, squealing in pure glee as the mud spattered his overalls and squelched in between his toes.  
Mara sighed, but didn't move, watching her son's antics with a small smile on her face. Surprised by the lack of pursuit, Ben traipsed back to his mother, wondering why she hadn't accepted his challenge of chasing after him. He was soaked to the skin and dripping wet. Mara picked him up, making sure to pin his arms to his sides and playfully wrestled him back inside the_ Jade Shadow_.

This time he giggled as she stripped him down, making faces as the mud came off on her own hands and clothes. He didn't even mind when she shoved him into the 'fresher and ran a hot sanisteam to take the edge off the chill. He pretended he was still playing in the rain and took an extra effort to splash his mother with soapy bath-water. He was still giggling when she towelled him dry, his hair standing up in devilish red spikes. She hadn't the heart to scold him, revelling instead in his infectious innocent joy.

Luke looked up from the couch, setting his datapad aside just in time as his over-energetic son barrelled into him.  
"Oof! Ben, you're getting a little too big for that kind of thing, son."  
His eyebrows shot up at the sight of his wife though.  
"Wait, he's clean and you're dirty? How did this happen?"  
Mara grimaced.  
"It's what happens when you give him sand in his blood, Farmboy. He goes and falls in love with the rain."


	6. Hero

**Hero**

He stared and stared at the two framed holos, one featuring a tall Wookie with golden brown fur standing in solid support with his much younger-looking uncle and the other of a young man with sandy hair and blue eyes that were identical with his own.

_Chewbacca. Anakin Solo._

Two members of his family, gone before his time.

"They were heroes, you know."

He hadn't heard his cousin come in. Jacen's eyes were oddly distant as he spoke and Ben knew he was recalling memories of them. He had no similar memories, and the thought made him feel somewhat hollow.

"I-I know who they are, but... I don't recognize them, Jacen."

"How could you? They gave their lives so you and I could live."

"Heroes", Ben repeated slowly.

"I want to be a hero like that someday. Like them."

Jacen laid a hand on his shoulder, smiling down at his younger cousin.

"You will. I'll make you a hero."


	7. Sunday mornings

**A/N: Fluff. Sunny-side up! :D**

**Sunday mornings**

It would be on those lazy sun-kissed mornings when Mom would wake first. Unable to go back to sleep, she would gently climb out of bed and, perhaps unconsciously, head for my room.

There I would be, fast asleep in printed pyjamas, sprawled across my bed, trying to claim as much space as my infant body could possibly take, and she would smile fondly at the sight.  
After watching me slumber to her heart's content, she would gently lift me up, my body naturally adjusting to her's in the process without waking, and carry me to their bedroom where another figure would be lying in an identical sprawl upon their larger bed.

She would tuck me in in her place, on the still-warm sheets and then watch as red head nuzzled under blonde and my dad's arm would of it's own accord drape across me and pull me closer into a loving embrace.


	8. Anakin

**A/N: I had posted this earlier as a stand-alone fic, but I think since I've started a drabble thread, it would belong here more appropriately. This is set post LoTF.**

**Anakin**

"Aunt Leia?"

Leia looks over beside her to where her teenage nephew is sitting quietly. Too quietly. The boy is so sad these days. _Ever since..._

"Yes, dear?"

"Can you tell me about Anakin?"

Leia is taken aback. Her youngest son, Anakin. Killed almost a decade and a half ago, when he was barely much older than his young cousin here.

"I never knew him. I have no memory of him."

Ben has never asked about Anakin before. Probably in deference to the pain it still causes her or her husband to talk about him. But now it seems he's become immune to all conceptions of pain._ Like Jacen..._

"Well-"

"Do you think he would have done something like this? If he'd survived Myrkr, if he had become my Master instead of Jacen? Do you think he'd have turned to the Dark Side?"

"Ben, I-I never believed even Jacen could turn to the Dark Side."

The boy's voice sounds unnaturally fierce.

"I don't think he would've. Anakin, I mean. I wish Jacen had died on Myrkr instead of Anakin. He would have been a better Master. He would never have turned! He would never have killed my Mom! He would never have betrayed me like that!"

Ben flees before his aunt can see his tears.

Leia had been about to rebuke Ben, but bites back her words instead. She wonders where he's suddenly gotten to know so much about Anakin but then finds herself thinking.

_What if he had lived...?_


	9. Guys

**A/N: A little moment of normalcy in the SW-verse**

**Guys**

"Hey! Has it started yet?"

"Nah, not yet. Pre-match commentary."

"Whew! Made it!"

"Hey Janson! Isn't there anything in your preservator other than lomin ale?!"

"What else do you want?"

"Where's that rodder Loran? He was supposed to be here with the bucket of nerf ribs fifteen minutes ago!"

"Will you guys shut it?! I'm trying to listen here!"

"Oh that's all bantha poodoo anyway! We all know who's winning this season's bolo-ball championship!"

"You really think the Taanabian Stagas are gonna beat Coruscant Fire this season, Uncle Wes? Half the side's on the bench due to injury!"

"Wanna bet?"

"You're on!"


	10. Name

**A/N: Something that struck me as being an old regret, maybe. Set within FoTJ.**

**Name**

"Dad, they're asking for our craft designation and identities. What shall I tell them?"

"Star yacht,_ Horizon_-class, _Jade Shadow_. Crew, Owen and Ben Lars."

Ben rapidly keyed in the responses and then sat back, waiting for authorization to land from the spaceport below.

" 'Owen Lars' must be your most favourite alias, huh, Dad? It's the one I've heard you use most often when you don't want to be recognized. Don't you think it's accumulated quite a reputation by now? Maybe you ought to think up a new one."

Silently, Luke shook his head. Ben started a little, seeing his father's gaze strangely unfocussed and distant, some old grief pooling in the depths of his eyes. He'd only been joking...

"No, Ben."

His voice was soft. His hand reached for Ben's shoulder and his son was shocked to feel it trembling violently.

"It's-it's the least I can do. After all... I didn't name you Owen..."


	11. Mother

**A/N: A tribute to one of the most unsung hero(in)es of Star Wars.**

**Mother**

"You know, Mom always makes me soup when I'm sick."

"Hmmm? Well, Mom's not here. So I guess you'll just have to put up with whatever little I can rustle up."

Ben had been out of sorts for days suffering from sniffles that simply wouldn't subside.  
Luke hated to see his son's spirits so low although he had to admit it was a relief from being constantly kept on his toes by his endless mischief.

Ben sniffed noisily from his perch atop the kitchen counter and rubbed his already ruddy nose. His father, meanwhile, continued to rummage in the cabinets, trying to find something that would rekindle his son's usually ravenous appetite.

"What did your mom do when you were sick, Dad?"

Luke turned to explain once again that he had never known his mother, but stopped short. Images began to flash through his head, triggered by his son's innocuous query.  
Images of a warm smile and faded skirts whose smell had been the most comforting thing in the world, of wrinkled blue eyes and soft careworn hands, of a threadbare but comfortable bed and the whispered tune of an old lullaby, of hot bread and a homely broth...

Suddenly, Luke Skywalker knew what he had to do.

* * *

Mara Jade Skywalker hated urgent work trips when her heart lay at home. She tended to fret, and that was most unlike her. She knew there was no undue cause for worry, most likely Ben was enjoying some rare quality time with his father. Luke could surely take care of their runny-nosed four-year-old...

It was no use. She sighed. Her little boy was sick. She needed to be by his side, not running an errand for the Jedi Council. The farmboy loved him, of course he did, but at times like these, Ben needed his mother.

She entered home to a surprising sight. Her husband had their son sitting snugly on the couch, wrapped up in an old blanket, sipping on a large mug of hot chocolate and squealing with laughter at the HoloNet cartoons. She joined them and Ben immediately snuggled into her lap. She hugged him and kissed his sweet-smelling hair. Luke had apparently managed the tiny miracle of getting him to take a bath as well!

Mara met her husband's twinkling eyes over the little red-gold head with a tender smile of her own and mouthed a silent _Thank you._  
_He's my son too , you know_, he sent over their Force- bond.  
_How did you pull it off?_ she replied,_ The poor thing was miserable when I left._  
_Oh, just a couple of tips I picked up, growing up on Tatooine. From my mother._  
_Your mother ?_ Mara couldn't hide her surprise in the Force.  
Luke smiled.  
_The only one I ever knew._


	12. Lightsaber

**Lightsaber**

I love my father and I admit, sometimes I feel fiercely protective about him. It's the way I feel about everyone in my family, everyone whom I love in this particular way. I would take a lightsaber to the gut for him any day, willingly, with a smile on my face.

But ever since Mom... I have come to realize what I mean to him.

Aunt Leia took me aside one day and had a very serious talk with me. She told me that I cannot let him lose me. I cannot be so selfish. He should not have to live to watch his son die. Because that would finish him. Utterly. He would have nothing left but to take his own life.  
That talk shook me to my very core.

Now I know that even if the opportunity presents itself, I must not take that shot, that plunge for my father. No matter what it costs me. He must know his son is alive at his last breath.

And that is the lightsaber I carry for him, twisting in my gut.


	13. Politics

**Politics**

Wynn Dorvan, Chief of State of the Galactic Aliiance, exited the conference hall at the Justice Centre, glad for the half-an-hour breather for lunch. The GA had been desperately trying to reach some sort of settlement with the Jedi, to bring them back into the fold, but it seemed his predecessor, Admiral Natasi Daala, had left things in rather a furious tangle. Things had descended into a literal screaming match between the two sides, with allegations and counter-allegations being hurled around like smashballs. Dorvan's head was buzzing, and he needed a break to clear things out.

He decided to get away from the Justice Centre altogether and take his lunch on the steps of the erstwhile Jedi Temple across the street, as he had once been in the habit of doing with the then recovering Jedi Knight, Raynar Thul. As he walked up, he found once again that he might just have company. Ben Skywalker was sitting quietly in the sun, looking around his old homeworld contemplatively. He rose graciously as the Chief of State approached, and sat once he had been waved down with a smile.

"I'm surprised to see you outside, young Skywalker," Dorvan remarked casually, after his offer of a sandwich had been politely declined by the young Jedi.  
"I hear you've become quite the negotiator these days."

Ben gave a half-smile.  
"Oh, I'm the chauffeur for this trip. I'm just waiting till everybody's finished inside."

Just then, Pocket the chitlik decided to crawl out of a corner of Wynn Dorvan's clothing and nibble hungrily at his sandwich. Seeing the cute little creature, Ben's face lit up in a grin. He extended a finger towards her.

"Do you mind?"

"Certainly not. But I must warn you, she doesn't take to-"

His words were cut off in mid-flow as Pocket did an extremely unusual thing. She sniffed at Ben's finger, and then cautiously crawled onto it, nibbling tentatively to see if he was edible. The young man chuckled softly. Pocket continued to crawl all along him, disappearing momentarily into his wide sleeves.

Wynn Dorvan looked on, astonished.  
"She's never done that before with any stranger. She's generally extremely shy."

Ben continued to let the animal explore as much of him as she wished.  
"Perhaps sometimes all it takes to overcome a fear is a hand extended in friendship, Chief of State", he put in, quietly.  
"I guess she's decided I'm a good guy after all!"

The Chief of State glanced askance at the Jedi, hearing more beneath his words than his casual tone belied. Ben's eyes were fixed firmly on his furry new friend.

And suddenly, Wynn Dorvan saw the way out of his current political impasse. Lunch on the Temple steps had proved as fruitful as ever. He leaned back and smiled.


	14. Fall

**Fall**

****

Whenever the subject of Grandfather came up in our meditative communication sessions, Obi-Wan would always become slightly withdrawn. I would be able to sense it in his Force presence. I knew what it was he would be thinking. He had always blamed himself for Grandfather's fall.

I had once told him,  
"It wasn't your fault."  
Immediately I had sensed that odd patronizing little touch, a smile humouring me, implying I wouldn't understand.

I had tensed, then, my lips thinning in irritation.

"I would know better than you think," I had responded, perhaps a tad sharply, "Jacen fell on my watch too. And I had loved him like a brother. We're not so different, you and I. But we still couldn't do a goddamn thing about it."

****

[A/N: If you're wondering how the hell Obi-Wan and Ben managed to get in touch, I would have to steer you towards my long-fic, "Myri and Me". But if you're not willing to go through the whole of that, I would kindly request a willing suspension of disbelief on your part, dear reader! :P]


	15. City

******A/N: More philosophical than most, but hope you still enjoy! A tribute to my most favourite planet in the SW-verse!**

**City**

I love the city. This city that engulfs a planet. Coruscant.

I love its lights and scents and dangers, its scum and villainy, its myriad faces reflected in the faces of the myriad beings who occupy it.

I know that I was born on a Star Destroyer, somewhere in the nether reaches of space and that's supposed to be ominous or something. Like I'm supposed to be destined to wander and never settle, a citizen of the galaxy, but no particular planet.  
Well, that's no longer true. It was here I found a home in my earliest childhood, here that I grew up, and here that I got my first taste of manhood.

Coruscant is my home, as it is a home for so many other homeless wanderers. And it shall remain so. I may be dragged off Coruscant, chased off it, banished and commanded never to return. The planet can burn about my feet, but I know that it will survive. It will rise up, as it has done so many times over centuries and aeons. And I shall return. One day. If only to breathe my final breath in its arms. For my city is my inspiration. My jewel in the heart of the galaxy.

Coruscant.


	16. Master

_**[A/N: Yes. I hate myself for writing this. But in every fan-ficcer's life, there comes a time when you simply have to confront the inevitable... Sigh.**_  
_**This is Part One of a two-part set of vignettes. Next one to be posted tomorrow.]**_

**Master**

Ben Skywalker was overwhelmed. He was fighting for his life, but it seemed he was losing. His lightsaber flashed quicker than the eye could follow, but he was slowly and surely being pushed back, the attack far stronger than he was able to withstand.

And that's when he felt it, a whisper at the back of his mind.

_Go, my son. Run._

Desperation surged into him as panic gripped his heart. He pulled on the Force, calling forth one last burst of energy to help him overcome his foes.

And then he ran.

* * *

All the colour drained out of his face as he raced to his father's side, beholding his crumpled form, his ragged breaths.

"Dad!"

Luke Skywalker's voice was faintly irritated.  
"Didn't I tell you to make a run for it?"

Ben made a quick survey of his father's wounds. They were bad. Really bad.  
"When was the last time I ever listened to you? Come on, I'm getting you out of here."

"We won't...make it."  
Every word cost the elder Skywalker it's weight in pain.

"Course we will. You just watch me."

"Don't be a...fool! Leave me! You have little ones...they need... their father."

"And their grandfather. I won't leave you, Dad. It's no use arguing."

"Son...my time has come. Let...me go."

"Don't say that!"

Ben gritted his teeth to keep his tears at bay. Carrying his father's incapacitated body was sending waves of agony coursing through his tortured body, and no matter how much he drew on the Force, it was no longer able to dull the edge of the pain.

"You're...hurt."

"So are you," he snapped."We're almost there-"

"No..."

It was as if he'd run into an invisible wall. Ben staggered and nearly collapsed beneath his precious burden.

"Dad! What are you doing?"

"It is... the will of the Force. I have...foreseen it. You must save yourself. Go, my son."

"I won't leave without you, Dad. If you're going to lay down here to die, then you'll have to take me down with you!"

He was surprised to see Luke Skywalker smile.  
"You're...just like your mother...you know that?"

"Dad."  
Ben was pleading.  
"I've got enough medical supplies on board the ship. You'll be fine. Your wounds aren't that bad, honest!"

"Liar..."

"Dad, please! You...you can't give up. Not now!"

"Ben...Skywalker...I bestow upon you...the rank of_ Master.._.of the Jedi Order..."

"What?!"  
Ben was thunderstruck.  
"No! You-you can't! I-I'm not ready!"

"You are. You have been...for a long time."

The tears were flowing freely now, his chest heaving with grief. He knew what such a pronouncement meant.

Weakly, Luke caressed his face with a blood-stained hand. Ben had collapsed onto the ground, cradling the body in his arms.  
"I always wanted to live...to see...my grandchildren...and you named...Master. Now I have."

"Dad..."

"You're a good boy, Ben, a... good son. You made us proud."

"I can't lose you..."

"You never will...my son."

* * *

He didn't know how long he sat there, head bent over his father's body, weeping until there were simply no tears left. Only when Jaina wrapped him in her arms, her own tears soaking through his tunic, did he even register anything.

He looked up then, the world around him dim and dark, and whispered,  
"Tell Mom I said hi..."


	17. Eulogy

**A/N: Part two of the death-fic.**

**Eulogy**

Ben Skywalker stared blankly across the sea of faces gazing up expectantly at him. His mind felt unable to comprehend anything. He just stood there, the thousand-parsec look of the utterly shell-shocked etched deep into his eyes. He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder and glanced back to see Cilghal, the Mon Calamarian Jedi Master looking at him with the deepest sorrowful sympathy. He continued to stare at her blankly too.

"Ben", she whispered softly.  
"They're waiting. You have to begin the eulogy."

_Eulogy.  
_  
The word hit him like a Wookiee's fist.

A sheaf of flimsiplast lay before him on a podium erected at the head of the Great Hall of the Jedi Temple. Today was his father's funeral, and Jedi and Force-users from all over the galaxy, as well as non-Force-sensitive friends and family had gathered to hear him eulogize the late Grand Master of the Jedi Order, Luke Skywalker.

With steps each weighed down by a tonnage similar to that of a completed Death Star, he walked forward to the podium and looked out at his audience. His hands trembled violently, his throat felt as dry as the Dune Sea. The words on the flimsiplast looked like meaningless squiggles to him.

He put a superhuman effort into beginning what he knew he had to say.

"I-"

That was as far as he got before he choked off.

He could see his aunt, still sobbing uncontrollably against his uncle. They couldn't even lift their heads to look at him. Seeing the two of them, Ben felt his own eyes grow wet and a lump started forming in his throat. The entire hall full of Jedi swam in his vision.

"I lost my dad."

He could scarcely recognize his own voice echoing around the giant assembly. It sounded hoarse, as though his throat had been chafed raw.

"I just lost my last surviving parent and you want me to tell you what he meant to this galaxy?"

Ben could hear the quiver in his own voice, but made no effort to quell it.  
The words had come. He would be speaking from the heart.

"Luke Skywalker was my Jedi Master. More importantly, he was my father. You ask me to talk about him as a Jedi?"

He shook his head slowly.

"I'm sorry. I can't do that. I can only talk about him as his son."

He fixed his gaze at a spot well above the heads of the grand assembly, gripping the sides of the make-shift podium with trembling hands.

"Luke Skywalker was a great Jedi Master, you all know that. Even his enemies will admit it, then what is it in his friends, in his son? No. I shall not eulogize his greatness. But I believe I can tell you what it was that made him great. A great Master, a great leader, a great brother, husband, uncle and friend. Definitely a great dad.  
It was love.  
All of you have experienced his love, the power of his love, in one form or the other, at some point in your lives. I have experienced it throughout my life. And those are the memories that I shall keep closest to my heart. All his instances of love. My father showed me the true beauty of love. And that shall always remain the greatest teaching he ever bestowed upon me."

He paused for a breath before carrying on.

"Love is the Light Side of the Force. My father understood that. That was why he changed the nature of the Jedi Order. The Jedi of the Old Republic feared love. My father went against two of his greatest Masters to prove them wrong. They had long believed that it was love that led one to the madness of the Dark Side. By recovering my Grandfather, he proved that it is love that redeems. He would go on to do the same many more times in his life. With Master Solusar, Master Durron, Jedi Zekk... and my mother."

Ben couldn't help the tears leaking from his eyes.

"My parents have always stood before me as the paragon of the power of the Light Side of the Force, of love. It transformed a lifetime's worth of enmity and hatred into a strong and lasting marriage, into a family that, no matter what the galaxy throws at us, will survive."

His eyes blazed and his teeth gritted as he said this, a vow to his lineage. He paused. The hall was silent. All eyes were upon him, and he noticed that his Aunt Leia, her eyes puffy and red, had finally lifted her gaze to look at him.

"My father has written himself into the history of this galaxy. He will be remembered as long as it is recalled.  
But most importantly, he wrote himself into our hearts. As the successor to a great line, I have often found myself humbled, unsure of how to fill the place of those who came before me. But I think my Dad provisioned for that too. I am my father's son, not my father. And my memories of him shall always remain the simple things, for in his heart he was always a simple man.  
He taught me much, much that I only realized the value of as I grew older. He held my hand, whenever I needed him, but he also let me go when I asked him to. He taught me the values of patience and humility, of simplicity and kindness. He taught me how to be a good husband and a good father myself. How to look at someone and instead of judging them, to look beyond. To accept them, shortcomings and all. He did it with all of us, of course, he had the hardest time doing it with himself."

Ben paused again, swallowing.

"My Dad was my hero. I know I will miss him, like I miss my Mom, every day for the rest of my life. But I know-"

He choked back the very real sob that threatened to eat his words.

"I know they are together again, and after so many years, he is complete once more.  
I always knew this day was coming. He's always tried to prepare me for a time when I would have to face the galaxy without him by my side, when I wouldn't be able to run to him for guidance.  
But I've found lately that that doesn't make this any less devastating."

He took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he had to say next.

"But we will move on. As he would have wanted us to. Without him. With only what he's left behind to guide our way. Because he left us hope. We will build on his example. He once rebuilt this Order all on his own. Atleast we have each other. We will continue to fight for the Light, protecting this galaxy and its people from the Darkness. And we will never, never give up."

For the last time, he glanced around the Great Hall feeling far steadier than when he had begun, at tear-filled eyes of family and friends, students and public figures.

"That is my father's legacy to this galaxy, to us. May the Force be with us all."


	18. The Pointy End

**A/N: Totally inspired by "Game of Thrones", but something I'd have liked to be included in canon somewhere.**

**The Pointy End**

Mom took me aside the day I graduated from training 'sabers to real ones. She sat me down and told me very seriously,  
"Ben, I think it's time."  
My eyebrows rose in surprise.  
"Time?"  
"Time I gave you this."

She took out a package to give to me. It was wrapped in an old piece of soft green cloth. It felt oddly heavy. I unwrapped it and out fell the silver hilt of a lightsaber. My eyes went wide.  
"Wow, Mom!" I breathed.  
"Are you giving me your old lightsaber?"  
She smiled fondly, looking down at it as I twisted it in my hands.  
"Well, you see, Ben, it's not actually mine. I mean, I didn't construct it."  
I looked up into her warm green eyes.  
"This is your grandfather's lightsaber, Ben. It's one of the few heirlooms of our family."

She looked at me.  
"Obi-Wan Kenobi gave it to your father when he started his Jedi training, but he lost it in his duel with Vader. We later found it on Wayland and he gave it to me, as a gift for saving his life."

Mom went silent, lost in her memories. I had to shake her knee to bring back her attention. She traced a finger down the cool metal casing.  
"I've used it for a long time. It's a great weapon, Ben. It's saved our lives many times. But now, it's time for you to have it. Treat it with care and respect, and it will serve you well."  
I was humbled by the bequest, still staring at the legendary weapon in awe, wondering whether I might be able to sense those who had ever wielded it through the Force.

I looked at my Mom, my eyes twinkling with mischief.  
"So, any tips?" I asked.  
Mom grinned. She took it out of my hands and ignited it in one fluid motion, holding it before us.  
"The first and most important lesson to remember about lightsaber combat, Ben, is that when faced with an enemy..."  
She made a few quick jabbing thrusts.  
"You stick 'em with the pointy end!"


	19. HandmeDowns

**A/N: A strange little idea that popped into my head one day and this is what came out of it! **

**Hand-me-Downs**

Mara Jade Skywalker looked down in dismay at the small bundle of clothes she'd unpacked that morning. She rummaged through the storage compartments of the_ Jade Shadow _ in vain. All she could find was a sleeping suit of his that one could tell from its current size simply wouldn't fit him any more. She looked out into the sunlight. There he was, running, whooping and laughing in glee, playing in the vast meadow that was Zonama Sekot to his heart's content. Mara felt her fist curl in a burst of irrational anger. Her baby deserved better. Much better.

* * *

Luke struggled to sit up as she marched into the little pre-fabricated cottage serving them as a residence on this planet. He was still on the road to recovery from the dangerous poison that had infected him from Shimrra's amphistaff, and though he had brightened considerably upon the return of their son, some days were still a trial for his swiftly depleted strength. He could sense the turmoil in her feelings, despite her best efforts not to let them show, and he frowned.  
"Mara? What's the matter, love?"  
Mara sighed, knowing it was futile to resist. He would know instantly if she lied. Instead she came over to the bed and sat beside him. A small tunic made of khaki roughspun fell crumpled from her hand. Luke regarded the garment in puzzlement, not sure why such a simple thing was causing Mara so much grief.  
He picked his words carefully.  
"Isn't that one of Ben's tunics?"  
Mara nodded, then looked away. Luke continued to look at her in confusion, not wanting to probe through their bond as to what was wrong, hoping she'd come out and tell him on her own.  
Mara lifted the offending material up again, absently rubbing the homely fabric in her fingers.  
"They're all he has, Luke."  
He almost had to bite back his reply of "So what's wrong with it?". She wasn't finished yet.  
"Our baby doesn't even have nice clothes, Luke. These- these colourless, drab little things are all he's had to wear for two years!"

It was true. Baby clothes had been a little hard to come by in a war and considerably low on the list of priorities when it came to supplies. Ben had been the only baby living in Shelter, so Tionne Solusar, his Jedi guardian, had had to cut down and fashion simple little tunics out of the clothes that used to come for the older children to fit him. His parents, too, had hardly had the leisure to visit him, let alone shop for clothes for him and send them out. Not that little Ben Skywalker, all of two years old, had either noticed or minded.

Luke picked up the little tunic. It reminded him a little of the clothes he used to have as a child growing up on a poor moisture farm on Tatooine.  
He looked up at his wife.  
"Mara...if you want to pick up a few things for him, I'm sure you can go off-planet for a day or two. I'll be fine, I promise. And I can take care of him for a bit."  
At this, Mara shook her head.  
"Forget it, Farmboy. You need me more. You're not fooling anyone with your feats of strength. I was just being silly. We can buy him everything he needs when we reach Coruscant."  
She jumped off the bed and bustled off, folding the little shirt as she went, while her husband's eyes followed her compassionately all the way out of the room.

* * *

Leia Organa Solo poked her head around the Skywalkers' residence a day or two later, searching for her sister-in-law.  
"Mara?"  
"In here, Leia."  
She found her preparing new bandages to dress Luke's wound and dumped her load unceremoniously on the bed.  
Mara looked at them, stunned.  
"Leia? What's- what's all this?"  
"I heard you were looking for some new clothes for Ben. Well, these aren't new, but I hope they'll do for now. I'm sure they've got to be better than anything you can get in the Maw!"  
Mara was speechless, touched beyond words by her sister-in-law's gesture. Leia's eyes softened as she smiled at her.  
"I know how it is, Mara. As a mother, you always want your little ones to have the best of everything."  
She gestured to the various items of clothing now lying strewn around.  
"These are some of Jacen and Anakin's old things. I had moved some of the oldest stuff to the _ Falcon_ because they were eating up so much space at home. And now I'm so glad I did!"  
Mara didn't know how to thank her, so she settled for wrapping a beaming Leia in a warm hug.

* * *

The little boy with a giant X-Wing painted on his t-shirt and navy shorts ran shrieking through the forest clearing, trying to elude his relentless pursuers.  
"We're coming for you, Ben! You'd better run or we'll catch you!"  
He ran as fast as his toddler legs would carry him... and bumped straight into his aunt, sitting under a tree, chatting idly with his dad.  
She caught him before he fell, letting out an 'oomph' as he knocked the air out of her.  
"Oof! Ani-!"  
She froze, as did her brother, hands flying to her mouth as she looked down at the giggling little cherubic face in her lap. She'd been fooled by the clothes... and the identical blue eyes.  
Luke retrieved his son from his sister, still staring into space with tears brimming in her eyes.  
"It's Ben, Leia," he murmured softly, guiltily.  
Leia nodded, not daring to look back at the little boy. Her nephew, not her son...  
"I have to go," she said, standing up abruptly.  
Luke nodded sadly, watching as she quickly walked away. He looked down at his young son, now fussing fitfully in his arms, fingered the slightly faded, slightly worn blue cloth of his shirt and sighed.


	20. Promise

**Promise**

He could never feel entirely comfortable in her presence. It was silly. He kept telling himself he had forgiven her, he had even gone so far as to redeem her, but still. After what he'd suffered at her hands, what he'd seen her do, he would never again be able to regain his comfort zone with the woman sitting in front of him. He felt nervous, awkward and fidgety, like a teenager on his first date, always stumbling in his conversation, which he never did with anyone else. But he stuck through it. After all, he had made a promise.

Tahiri Veila regarded him with faint irritation. He would always be a reminder to her of some of her greatest guilt and she wished they could both spare each other the awkwardness and simply agree never to see each other again. That might possibly be the most amicable solution. But his high sense of honour and unimpeachable moral code forbade him from admitting that simple fact to himself.  
In that sense, he reminded her of a certain someone... Tahiri firmly pushed that thought to the very back of her head.  
He would keep trying to get over his own discomfort, and she would be forced to continue facing her guilt.

Once she actually came out and told him, point blank.  
"You don't have to tolerate me like this, you know. We could go our separate ways."  
The boy blushed, embarrassed that he was being so obvious.  
"I don't dislike you, Tahiri."  
"You do. And I don't blame you one little bit. I'd hate myself if I were in your place."  
Ben fidgeted, discomfited again.  
"I promised him," he mumbled, staring at his knees, "Anakin... I promised I would keep an eye on you, see that you didn't do... that kind of stuff again."  
"And you think you can stop me if I should choose to do them, anyway?"  
Tahiri had thrown out the challenge, a faint smile on her lips. She'd been unprepared for the flash in his eyes.  
"Yes."  
He was utterly confident. More, he was determined.  
"I won't let you go down the Dark path again, Tahiri. I've seen what it does to people. I won't let you do that to yourself."  
He shook his head.  
"Not again. And that's a promise."  
She knew then that he would kill her if he had to. And that touched her somewhere.  
She nodded. She would live with her guilt if he could live with his discomfort.  
After all, a promise was a promise.

**A/N: I confess, I cannot write Tahiri. She is a character who simply baffles me. Somehow I've never been able to wrap my head around her. But as a writer, I simply cannot take no for an answer, so this is my attempt at breaking this deadlock. Let me know what you think!**


	21. Heartbreak

_**A/N: Takes place towards the end of FOTJ Apocalypse.**_

**Heartbreak**

He wrapped his shields around him tightly as he kept vigil by his father's bedside, his thoughts straying from the grievously injured Jedi Grand Master still lying comatose before him.

He felt like he had added another few years to his mental age-count since Jaina had told him the truth. The truth of_ her_ final betrayal. He rubbed his eyes wearily.

He had been such a fool! And because of it, because he'd allowed himself to be strung along like some love-lorn nerf-herder, his young cousin's life had been endangered!  
He knew he wouldn't be able to bear it again if another member of his family lost her life due to his stupid, stupid mistakes!

_She was Sith! What in the galaxy were you really expecting from her?! She did her job, cut down those who were a danger to her, not to save your pathetic ass, but to further her own ambitions!_  
_And you thought she was in love with you?! You complete bantha-brain!_

Guilt, anger, worry all warred through the youngest Skywalker.

He could have used some support right now. His father was battling death before his very eyes and he didn't know how much longer he would be able to hold on. He was this close to becoming an orphan. The very thought made his insides grow numb and cold like a sheet of ice.

Once again he had been right, and Ben had failed to follow his advice.

_Mistakes regarding the Sith cost lives! You ought to have learnt this lesson by now! Especially since the last time..._

He fought back the tears threatening to leak out of his eyes as a smashball sized lump grew in his throat. He cradled his head in his hands with a groan.

_I never wanted to make you my enemy, Vestara. I believed in you even when nobody else did. I had faith in you. But you still betrayed me. You threatened my little sister. You've crossed a line there, Vestara. One from which there can be no coming back. For either of us._  
_It's over._

Ben Skywalker sat up, feeling the ice tighten around his heart, knowing that very probably this would not be the last time he would have his heart broken.


	22. Shave

**A/N: Just a bit of father-son fluff! Takes place just before FOTJ begins.**

**Shave**

"Oww! Dad!"

Luke Skywalker had been attempting to enter the refresher on board the_ Jade Shadow_when the sudden yell drove him back. Blinking blearily, since he'd just woken from a long overdue stretch of sleep, he peered in, and was greeted by the sight of his son wearing a heavy scowl, half his face lathered in white foam, gingerly touching a spot on his chin which was dripping ruby droplets of blood.

"Geez! Would it kill you to knock? I nicked myself!"

"What in the world are you doing, Ben?"

Ben Skywalker regarded his father incredulously.

"What does it look like I'm doing?! Since you didn't exactly specify that our next mission required us to be disguised as Wookiees, I figured maybe I was about due for a decent sanisteam and a shave!"

Luke continued to stare at him, non-plussed. He'd never noticed any stubble on his son's face. Since when had he been needing to shave?!

_Since when had he grown to become a young man?_

Ben was regarding his face closely in the mirror, wincing slightly as he squeezed his injured chin to stem the flow of blood.

"Ben?" his father asked patiently, "Since when have you been trying to shave?"

"I dunno. Coupla months? Gets itchy if I don't."

Luke tried desperately to hid his smile of affection.

"You're holding it wrong."

Ben turned to look at him, eyebrows raised

"What?"

Luke nodded toward his hand.

"The razor. You're holding it wrong. Greater chance of getting nicked that way. Here, let me show you."

He took the implement and showed the correct positioning of the fingers. Ben looked on curiously.

"Where'd you learn to shave anyway?"

Ben shrugged.

"I've seen you doing it all my life, Dad. It's not exactly rocket science, you know. I could've figured it out on my own."

His father smirked.

"And end up looking like you got out on the losing side in a nexu fight? Why didn't you come to me?"

The young man looked away, blushing a little in embarrassment.

"It wasn't a big deal, Dad. I knew how to... technically."

Luke stepped up, his voice gentle, but something sad sparking in his eyes.

"No. You didn't. You could have hurt yourself. Look, I know I've missed out on the little milestones in your life, Ben, even when I swore I wouldn't anymore. But I'm your father before being your Jedi Master, son. I would never want you to feel shy about such things with me."

He laid a hand on his son's cheek, noticing that he looked startled.

"You're growing up before my eyes, Ben. Each time I look at you, I find something different. I just don't want to turn around one day and find you've become a man behind my back."

Ben attempted a half-hearted smile.

"Sorry, Dad. Guess I'm just programmed that way. I can't really help it."

"Yes, I know."

Luke smiled.

"It's just rough on us parents, that's all."

Ben smirked mischievously this time, leaning back, his arms folded, against the 'fresher sink.  
"So this is how you take it out on me, huh? Intruding on my privacy so I don't grow up without permission?"

"That's right. You're getting sneaky nowadays."

"That's my job, old man. As your son _and_apprentice. Gotta keep you on your toes. It's supposed to be good training for when you have grandkids!"

Luke laughed and reached over to ruffle his hair.


	23. Funeral

**A/N: This was written a long time ago. It is totally the raw grief I personally felt after reading Mara's death in Sacrifice.**

**Funeral**

NONONONONONONONONONONONO!

It's like a staccato drone playing over and over at the back of my head. It started when I first beheld Mom's body, down in the tunnels beneath Kavan. It's been keeping me going ever since then.

I can see her body laid out on a pyre, about to be cremated. But she just looks like she's asleep...

NONONONONONONONONO!

Every time I try and confess in my head that she's gone, my Mom's gone, she's dead, the drone takes over, becoming louder until it drowns out all doubts. I can't believe it. I won't believe it! My Mom's not dead. She _can't_ die!  
Because I can't do this on my own. I'm not ready to lose her!

NONONONONO!

I wish Aunt Leia could have delivered the eulogy instead of Saba. I mean, no offence, Saba's great and the speech was very moving and all, but... she's not family...  
I wish she could be here if only for Dad. I've only dared sneak a look at his face once during the entire ceremony, and that was when I came closest to tears.

NONONO!

I will not cry. I will not shed these tears. Because that will mean admitting that she's truly gone. It cannot be. I will not let it be. She'll be coming back. I know it. And I will wait for her even if no one else will.

NONO!

Her body! It- it's fading! She- she's becoming one with the Force!

NO!

Mom! No! Please! I beg you! I love you! Don't go! Don't leave me! I can't do this without you! Please, Mom! Please... please... come back...  
Mom...

It's him, isn't it? Jacen Solo. That's who you were waiting for. He did it. I just know it.  
I will kill him for this, I promise you that, Mom. He will pay for this.  
His kill will be mine.


	24. Curse

**A/N: And this begins a sort of mini-series within a series. The next few drabbles will be focussing exclusively on Ben and Allana. Primarily because they just came to me that way! Alongwith this one, it'll be a trilogy. Again, not in any particular chronological order.**

**Curse**

"My children will not have to live like this!" she swore fiercely.

They were on the run again, following a security breach at the diplomatic conclave they had been attending. The Hapan _Chume'da's_ life was once again in peril.

Jedi Master Ben Skywalker looked over at her from the pilot's seat, his eyebrows raised, but his lips drawn together in a tight line.  
"Don't, 'Lana", he said brusquely, but not unkindly.  
"Don't make promises you can't keep."

The _Chume'da's_ eyes flashed.  
"And who says I won't be able to keep it?"

"Search your feelings, Princess. You know it to be true."

Allana Djo Solo glared daggers at her cousin, but eventually dropped her gaze with a soft sigh.

"I once promised myself the same thing, you know," Ben spoke again, after a brief pause, his voice far too old and weary.

He shook his head, looking oddly defeated.  
"It doesn't work for us, 'Lana. Grandfather gave his soul to protect his family. What happened? He fell to the Dark Side. Same goes for your father. Aunt Leia, my dad, they fought their whole lives so their children would have a better future. Did they? Mom swore after I was born, that I would never have to know war again. I still had blood on my hands by the age of thirteen."

He shrugged.  
"Look at Jaina and Jag. Davin's already being groomed as his father's successor. Che is already a Knight. And my boys? I no longer harbour any delusions that they will grow up to face all that I did."

He sighed and turned to his younger cousin with a sad smile.  
"And any kid of yours will become _Chume'da_ after you. And that's never going to be easy, you know that right? I'm just glad my folks geared me to be a fighter. And I'm going to pass on that knowledge to my kids. Because that's the only thing that can save them in the end."

Allana fought back the bitter tears that had crept into her eyes. She knew all too well that every word Ben had spoken was true.  
"I- It's just so unfair, Ben!"

He nodded, his gaze straying beyond the stars spread before their canopy.  
"Sure is, kid. But then, I don't think you're born with the Skywalker blood in you if you're not strong enough to take it. Sometimes, I think that's the curse we bear..."


	25. Honesty

****_A/N: Part 2 of Ben-Allana mini-series! The 'ladies man' strikes again! ;P _

**Honesty**

"How about this one?"

"Mmhmm?"

Allana frowned, dangling a lavender gown from the crook of her finger.  
Her cousin didn't seem to be paying the slightest bit of attention to the extremely important task of selecting the appropriate dress for the Hapan _Chume'da_ to wear to the royal dinner that evening.

Ben Skywalker lounged on an overstuffed divan in the chambers of the_ Chume'da_ in the Fountain Palace on Hapes, bouncing his feet and idly flipping through a bolo-ball holozine.  
Allana briefly considered setting Anji on him, but then saw that her pet nexu was also curled up lazily by the window and probably disinclined to do anything remotely ferocious at this time.

She picked up a fur muff and threw it at Ben. It hit him smack in the middle.

"Oof! 'Lana!", he wailed in annoyance, glaring at his cousin sister, who glared regally back at him.

"You're supposed to be paying attention here and helping me choose a dress for tonight," she demanded.  
" A_ Chume'da's_ wardrobe necessarily speaks volumes about her, her mood, her political inclinations..."

Ben rolled his eyes behind her back.

"I saw that! I have the Force, you know."

Ben pulled an even more ridiculous face behind her, this time on purpose.

Allana spun to spear him with a daggered look.

"See? This is why you don't have a girlfriend. No patience for women."

"On the contrary," Ben drawled haughtily leaning back even further into the soft cushions, "I have all the patience in the galaxy with women. Just none for you."

Allana seriously contemplated calling palace security and having her annoying brother hauled off, but then decided it was beneath her. She turned back, sniffing snootily, to her extensive wardrobe of evening dresses and lapsed into contemplation once again.

"I wish Grandma were here," she mumbled to herself.  
"She has the best taste...The lavender is too plain, how about...this?"  
She turned, holding up a gorgeous floor-length dress in deep maroon with a low-cut neckline and long, heavily brocaded sleeves.

"Well? What do you think?"

Ben flicked his eyes to it for a brief second, shrugged, murmured something non-committal and then returned to his perusal of Coruscant Fires' chances this season in the Galactic Premier League.

Allana wished she had her grandfather's blaster close at hand. She looked around for something else to throw at her overly lethargic cousin when her eye fell on something soft and shimmering gold at the very end of the rack. She breathed in sharply and pulled it out.

_Yes! It was perfect!_

The cloth fell like the lightest liquid gold around her figure, form-fitting, but not excessively so, flowing with her every step. it was slashed with cream-coloured shimmersilk and the bodice held the finest and most delicate of embroidered designs. It had been a gift from her mother, but until now, she had found no occasion to wear it.

"Ben", she gasped, thrusting it in his direction, the most dazzling smile on her face.  
"It has to be this, right? Isn't it fabulous?!"

Ben yawned loudly, stretched and lifted himself from his seat. He barely cast a glance at the dress as he strolled towards the young woman.

"You look beautiful in anything you wear, Princess. You just don't realize it. It's not the dresses, it's you."

He said it in his deepest, most serious voice, looking straight into her soft grey eyes. Then he kissed her lightly on the forehead and strolled out the door.

Allana stood dumbstruck, staring in his wake. She shook herself out of her reverie, only to find herself blushing furiously.

_Damn him!_ she thought to herself, grinning like an idiot._ I have the best brother ever!_


	26. Blue

_**A/N: This is the last of the Ben-Allana mini-trilogy. Enjoy and don't forget to review!**_

**Blue**

"What did I tell you, huh?"

His eyes were a midnight blue, flashing with a fierce anger as he glared down upon her from above.

"Did I or did I not_ explicitly_ tell you to stay put where you were?"

Mutely she nodded, hanging her head in repentance.

"I cannot bring you on missions with me unless I know you're going to listen to me, 'Lana, and do exactly as you're told."

"But-"

She broke off as his eyes flashed again.

"No buts, young lady! It is your duty to obey your Master! Are we clear on that? I won't be able to rely on you if I have to keep fearing that you've decided to take matters into your own hands and run off somewhere."

He hunkered down so that his blue eyes were level with hers.

"Do you realize what kind of danger you were putting yourself in today?"

Again she merely mutely nodded. His eyes were so sombre she felt like bursting into tears.

"And do I have your word that it will never happen again? That you will trust me to do my job and I can count on you to do yours?"

For a split second she wasn't sure whether she should make such a terrible promise.

"Because otherwise I shall be forced to send you back to the Temple and not bring you along with me in the field any more."

She looked up in shock, only to find his eyes weren't angry anymore. They just held a deep well of worry. Worry for her, because he loved her so much.

On impulse she flung her arms around him, the closest thing she would ever have to a big brother always looking out for her, and felt his arms slowly close around her as well.

"I'm sorry, Ben," she mumbled into his shoulder.  
"It'll never happen again. I promise!"

"Good," she heard him whisper in reply.  
"Because you really scared me this time, Princess."


	27. Medbay

**Medbay**

Ben Skywalker sat dozing restlessly in the chair beside the medbay bunk, keeping up his endless vigil for his grieviously injured father. He'd lately begun to get the feeling that half his life had passed in situations like these, watching precious members of his family battling for life while he simply looked on. The humming and beeping of medical equipment no longer registered on his senses, he'd become so immune to them, and 2-1B medical droids had begun to look as familiar as Artoo and Threepio. He sighed, shifting in his seat a little to ease the numbness in his legs, then dropped his head into his hands, tugging at his tousled hair, trying to stifle a wave of overwhelming despair. He would do anything, for as long as it took to keep his father alive. He just didn't know how much longer he himself would be able to bear the strain. He smiled a little wryly to himself.  
_This man is going to be the death of me!_

* * *

Slowly, ever so slowly, consciousness returned to Luke Skywalker. Disoriented at first, he took several deep breaths, blinking at the white lights and sterile surroundings.  
_Must be a medbay_, he thought.  
He tried to turn his head to look around, and his eyes caught sight of a figure at the very periphery of his vision. Despite his stiff neck, Luke struggled to get a better view.  
A man sat there, stretched out on a chair, his eyes closed, weariness etched in pre-mature lines on what had once been a very young face. His chest rose and fell lightly in a restless sleep, Luke could tell. His robes were crumpled and travel-stained and his boots scuffed and worn. The young man's red hair fell in unkempt strands over his forehead. As he shifted in his seat, his eyelids suddenly fluttered open and Luke was startled to find himself looking into clouded blue eyes, identical to his own.

"Dad?" the young man rasped out, staggering to his feet,  
"You're awake!"

His addressing of him struck Luke like a sledge-hammer to the chest!

_Ben! That was... Ben! And he had almost failed to recognize him!_

He wondered if he was just awakening from a coma after several years.

_When had his sparkling little boy grown up so much? When had he grown... old?!_

"B-Ben...?" His throat felt dry and scratchy.

"Hold on, Dad. I'll just call Two-OneBee-"

"No.." Luke croaked. He raised a feeble hand, beckoning him forward.  
"Ben...my son... Come here..."  
Ben obeyed, looking concerned.  
"How-how're you feeling, Dad?"

He reached out a hand. Ben, still looking confused, took it gently in his own.  
"Dad, you need medical attention. I should really call the droid."

"I-I need my son... more."

He saw a look of surprise cross Ben's features. He blinked rapidly as if driving away tears.

_Mara had been right. So right. It wasn't time for him to go. Not yet. Not while his son needed him so much. He couldn't afford to give up just now. There was too much at stake._

Weakly, Luke raised his arms.  
"Come here, son..."

Ben, astonished, reached down to gather him as gently as possible into a hug. He let go far too soon.

"I'm sorry," Luke whispered, finding himself battling against tears of his own.  
"I'm sorry I worry you so much."

"It's ok, Dad."  
Ben's tone was awkward and gruff.

_He's still such a boy! Hiding all his emotion so his father can't see._

"It's just your age talking. Been thinking of trading you in for a newer model!"

Ben would never grow out of his police habit of covering up his nervousness with jokes. Luke  
smiled warmly, laying a hand on his knee.

"I'm still the best that comes for the price," he quipped back.

Ben gave a watery grin.

"Thank you", he told him, softly.  
"Thanks for always watching out for me."

Ben nodded, growing scarlet.

"No problem, old man. That's what you keep me around for right?"

He stood up and Luke knew he wouldn't be able to escape the medical droid any further. He watched him leave quietly, knowing in his heart of hearts that his son still sorely needed his father to watch over him.

_**A/N: Just to clarify, this does NOT take place towards the end of Apocalypse, but maybe further in the future. **_


	28. Love

**Love**

He often wished they would just get a room! He was sick and tired of running into them getting waaay too cozy with each other in the oddest of places.

For example, just this morning, when he'd walked in bleary-eyed into the kitchen, hoping for nothing more than a little breakfast, there they'd been, melded into each other, kissing over the hot-cakes. He'd groaned. They'd split apart at the sound, but hadn't looked the least bit repentant, his father flashing him a brilliant smile.  
"Well! Look who's finally up this morning and has decided to honour us with an appearance!"  
He'd scowled at him, grinning away like the devil, while his mother had put a steaming pile of hot-cakes in front of him, kissing him soundly on the top of his head.

Seriously! What was the deal with all this kissing business?! It looked gross to him. He wouldn't be caught dead kissing anyone! Least of all a _girl_!  
Sure, Mom kissed him, now and then...alright, everyday! But that was different. Mom wasn't _a girl_! But making gooey eyes at each other, with those ridiculous grins on their faces, nuzzling and making idiotic inarticulate sounds...Disgusting! If that was what love entailed, he hoped he never fell in love!

Of course, there were those other times, in the night, when he'd get out of bed to use the 'fresher or get himself a glass of water, and he'd find his parents just standing on the balcony or curled up on the living room couch, talking softly. Something about them would make him stop and watch for a moment, out of sight... the gentle touch with which his father would tuck away a strand of his mother's hair behind her ear, that softness in her eyes and in her smile which was reserved for his father and his father alone, the way she would rest her head upon his shoulder as they stared out over the nighttime cityscape, the way the two of them would sometimes seem to sway in time to music it seemed only they could hear...

At times like those, Ben would suddenly catch himself thinking the unthinkable! That someday, he hoped he'd find someone he might share such moments with.


	29. Order

**Order**

He watched sullenly from the wings of the giant hangar bay as his father, in absolutely no condition to fly into combat, rejected all advice and all protestations to the contrary, and prepared to strap himself into his fighter. He never listened to his concerns! And at times like these, it made Ben genuinely angry. What could he possibly have left to prove?! Didn't he realize how much he was needed, alive and well?! Didn't he _care_ about those who put their hearts on the line every time he flew out into battle?!

It didn't seem like he did.

And every time Ben would be forced to confront his worst fear. That this time, he wouldn't make it back, that this time he would again be forced to experience that terrible wrench he'd felt once before, signifying that half of his heart was being torn away.  
This _this_ was why he'd never had the luxury of being able to take his parents for granted, like other kids.

He reached a decision. If he couldn't stop his father from flying into battle, then he'd atleast make sure he came back.

Ben strode across the permacrete, his boot-heels clacking in tune to his march. He walked up and stood stiffly at attention in front of his father's StealthX fighter craft.

"Grand Master Skywalker," he called.

His father turned from the cockpit, and seeing the grave expression on his face, shimmied down the ladder.

"Ben? What is it?" he asked, perplexed.

"Grand Master, it appears that I have failed to dissuade you from undertaking combat duty today. And since you insist on going up against my concerns, it has now become my duty to inform you that you are hereby being commanded _expressly_ to return from this mission unscathed."

Ben's father blinked in confusion.  
"What-? What're you talking about? I don't understand..."

Ben moved a step closer to the aging Jedi Grand Master, a fire blazing behind his eyes and amply reflected in his furiously whispered tone.

"Then let me make this clear for you, Grand Master. You will come back. You will live. I don't care how you do it, but you will return alive from this. Because someday you will be there to pronounce me Jedi Master. You will be there at my wedding, whenever that might be. You will see and hold your grandchildren, all of them, however many there might be. You will play with them and read them bedtime stories and teach them about the Force, just as you taught me."

There were furious tears in the young man's eyes, but he refused to let them fall.  
Luke Skywalker simply stood, stunned and rooted to the spot.

Ben brought a finger up before his nose, continuing in that same heated undertone.  
"You will live for the future. _My_ future. And that is an order, Grand Master Skywalker."

He held his father's gaze for a second more, then spun on his heel and marched back.

The Grand Master watched his upright and rigid bearing as he walked away, tears stabbing his own eyes, then he nodded to himself.  
Yes. This was an order he would simply have to obey.

_**A/N: Parents never listen, right?! ;P**_


	30. Ice-cream

_**A/N: The following two drabbles are multi-part drabbles centred around a common theme. Here's the first one. I shall also be posting this separately as a one-shot just for all the Han Solo fans out there!**_

_**Three generations. One bribe. And Han Solo!**_

**Ice-cream**

He found her sitting on the ramp of the _Millennium Falcon,_ bouncing her feet off the edge, a heavy sulk adorning her features.  
Han Solo sighed.  
"What did Mom yell at you for this time?"  
His daughter glared at him with eyes brimming with tears.  
"I hid Jacen's pet..._ thing_ and Anakin's starfighter set to teach them a lesson, and they ratted on me."  
"So you're grounded, huh?"  
Jaina looked away in defiance.  
"Jaina, you know Jacen gets frantic if he can't find one of his pets, right? He has to take care of them. They're living creatures. What if it ran away? Or died?"  
Jaina looked sullen at his not taking her side for once.  
Han regarded her with sympathy.  
"And Anakin will simply drive your mother insane unless he's kept occupied with something. You shouldn't tease him like that."  
Jaina's lip swelled even more and one fat tear leaked down to her chin. Angrily she scrubbed at it, leaving a grease-mark from her dirty fingers.  
Han sat down beside her, putting an arm around her shoulder.  
"Look, I'll cut you a deal. You promise that you'll go and apologize to them and you and me can take the afternoon off and go get some ice-cream. How's that, hmm?"  
Jaina's eyes shot up to find his.  
"You'll buy me ice-cream?"  
Her father nodded.  
The tears vanished in a flash and the old mischievous grin found it's way back to her lips.  
"Astral! I promise. Now let's go!"  
Han's arm was nearly tugged out of its socket by his eight-year old daughter in her insistence that he take her** now**!

* * *

The red hair stood out like a beacon as Han Solo approached his ship and he knew just who to expect sulking there.  
"Alright, who yelled at you this time? Mom or Dad?"  
"Mom."  
Ben Skywalker's reply came out muffled from between his knees.  
"Congratulations, kid! You've probably broken the galactic record for the number of times someone's messed with Mara Jade and gotten out of it alive! You just never learn your lesson, do you?"  
Sullen tear-filled blue eyes glared out at him from under his nephew's trademark red-gold mop.  
"What'd you pull?"  
"I _accidentally_ deleted some files of Mom's when I was downloading a speeder game onto her datapad."  
Ben very self-righteously stressed on the word "accidentally".  
Han sighed.  
"Did you apologize?"  
"She was yelling at me!"  
"What did you expect?! There was probably very important stuff in those files!"  
He returned to glaring up at him.  
"You sound just like her."  
Han broke into a lop-sided grin.  
"Oh? And would she make you the offer I'm about to make you?"  
The blue eyes now looked faintly more curious.  
"You and me are going to take a walk. We're going to get some ice-cream and then I'm going to take you back home where you will tell your mother just how sorry you are and that you're never going to do something like that again. Deal?"  
_"Ice-cream?!_"  
It seemed to be the only word that had caught his eight-year old nephew's attention.  
Han nodded, still smiling.  
"Deal!"  
Ben stuck out his hand in a classical gambler's pose, emulating his uncle down to the lop-sided grin.  
Han Solo grabbed the little boy by his collar and spun him round towards the exit, pleased to hear once again the squeal of laughter the little devil was best known for.

* * *

A nexu tail waving from behind the_ Millennium Falcon's_ boarding ramp alerted Han Solo to the location his granddaughter had been hiding in for the last hour or so. He crept up, jumping out only at the last minute, startling the poor child and eliciting a loud mewl of surprise from Anji.  
"So there you are, little gundark! Do you know your grandmother has been searching for you for the last hour?"  
Allana bit her lip.  
"Is she mad?"  
"You think?"  
The eight-year old looked up at her grandfather with grey eyes round with trepidation. Neither of them liked to be on the wrong side of Leia Organa Solo if they could help it.  
"Who were you hiding from?"  
"Threepio."  
"Why?"  
"I have to study Ancient Galactic History with him today."  
Han could instantly sympathize.  
"Well, since you're going to be _ Chume'da_ one day, I guess you'll have to know which planet decided to bomb which other one and when."  
Allana scowled, clearly disagreeing as to what the desired level of knowledge of a _Chume'da_ should be.  
"But if you promise to sit through your lesson like a good little princess, we can go get some ice-cream before I have to deliver you to your grandmother and Goldenrod."  
The future Hapan Queen Mother jumped up with a whoop clearly unbecoming of her dignity, further startling her poor nexu.  
"Yay! C'mon Grandpa! I want the one with extra chocolate sauce and loads and loads of starry sprinkles!"  
Han Solo was only too happy to oblige.


	31. Birthdays

_**A/N: All of the following take place as missing moments in the EU timeline.**_

**Birthdays**

_First_

_**[Takes place during the skirmishes for the reclamation of Yuuzhan'tar. Post NJO: Rebel Stand.]**_

Mara Jade Skywalker's ears rang with the sound of constantly discharging blaster bolts. The fight in the lower levels of Coruscant's undercity was getting desperate. Face Loran and Kell Tainer were already hidden in clouds of smoke and her husband and Tahiri were only dimly visible by the light of their flashing lightsabers. She had no idea where Tekli and Danni had gotten to. She herself had momentarily slipped behind a half-collapsed wall to put in a fresh cartridge into her blaster and check how they were doing on their schedule. The fresh cartridge connected with a snap and she took a quick glance at her chrono...and froze.

It showed the date as 27:5:10.

Today was Ben's birthday. Her son's first birthday. And she was an entire breadth of a galaxy away from him without even the means for a holocomm transmission. She wouldn't even be able to see his face today or even send him a wish. A wave of anger rushed through her, but she swallowed hard and shut her eyes, stomping down on it firmly. Too late. Luke had felt her sudden flare of emotion and in a second she could see him rushing to her side, his eyes wide with concern.  
"Mara! Are you hurt? What happened?"  
Yes. She was hurt. Her little boy was growing up alarmingly fast far, far away from her. And here she was, arming blasters and tossing grenades, hoping against hope that she'd live to see his next birthday. Maybe.  
She looked at her husband, unable to hide the tears pooling in her eyes. She held out her chrono-hand toward him, and noticed it was trembling slightly. He took it in his, examining it for injuries and then looked back at her, puzzled.  
"No, Luke," she whispered, "Look at the date. It's- it's Ben's birthday today..."  
She felt a similar rush of dismay from him as he sat down heavily on the ground beside her.  
"I-I'm sorry, Mara..."  
The feeling of failure was clouding her sense of him. She reached over for his hand.  
"This war isn't your fault, Farmboy," she said gently.  
He shook his head, not raising it to meet her gaze.  
"I never wanted the war to taint his life. But it's doing exactly that, isn't it?"  
Something locked inside Mara.  
"It will if we don't win, Farmboy."  
It looked like she was going to have to be the stronger one for both of them. She scrambled to her feet, reaching down to help Luke to his.  
"We're fighting this for him. For his future. So that he _has_ a future at all. We can't give up now. Let's finish this and go home. I don't want to have to miss my son anymore, Luke."  
Slowly the determination returned to her husband's blue eyes and he nodded.  
"You're right. We won't miss another birthday of his, Mara. I promise."

* * *

_Second_

**[****_Takes place around the time of The Unifying Force, during the search for Zonama Sekot.]_**

She stood at the viewport, the blackness of hyperspace all around her, bitter helpless tears stinging her eyes.  
_We'd promised,_ she thought. _We'd promised._

Across the hundreds of parsecs that separated her from her son, the chrono was turning to show 00:00 hrs, 28:5:10. Somewhere deep inside the Maw, little Ben Skywalker had just turned two. Two years old and he hadn't even spent half his life with his parents. She looked at the latest holo of him, clutched tightly within her grasp, that they had received a few weeks before and her heart lurched within her again. He was walking now, she could see that. He was standing unsteadily on his little, pudgy, wobbly legs as he grinned into the cam. She hadn't been there to hold him after his first few steps. A lonely tear trickled down her cheek and a sob welled deep in her heart. He'd probably started saying a few words too, but his first had probably not been "Mama". His "Mama" hadn't even seen him in so long...

An arm quietly draped itself around her gently heaving shoulders.  
"Do you think he'll even recognize me...when we see him again?"  
She knew he had almost been about to say "if" instead of "when".  
It was a secret terror Luke harboured, that he would have become a stranger to his own son by the time he got to see him again. _If_ he got to see him again. If not, he wouldn't even have had a chance to say goodbye. Mara looked at her husband in a sudden flash of fear.  
"We_ will _ see him again, Luke. We have to."  
He continued to stare silently out the viewport, his eyes unseeing.  
She looked down at the holo in her hand, whispering,  
"I miss you so much, baby. Today of all days. I wish I could be there with you. Everyday. Daddy and I love you, Ben. Very very much. Happy birthday, son."

* * *

_Fourteenth_

_**[Missing moment from the book LOTF: Exile]**_

He shivered as he set up camp for himself and the girl, Ziost's winds chilling him to the bone. Conversation had long since died down as, miserable and hungry, they fought to preserve their energy for movement and defence. The little girl, Kiara, fell asleep as soon as she lay down and Ben wished he had the peace of mind to fall asleep just as easily. He felt as if he was going mad. He could even hear mysterious voices in his head, telling him what to do. And all on an inhospitable Sith world reeking of the malice of the Dark Side with limited food and scant shelter. Ben rubbed his brows and stole a glance at his chrono, checking on how many hours of rest they could manage before it would be time to move again.

22:50 hrs; 40:5:10.

Ah yes. Today was his birthday. He had turned fourteen today and hadn't even realized it, until his datapad had chimed and he'd seen the pre-recorded birthday message from his parents. Ben's heart twisted within him. Mom and Dad had always made sure to make his birthday special. They'd always carried the guilt of missing out on his earliest ones.  
And what had he accomplished today? Let a man die, alone and friendless, and nearly allowed his daughter to freeze or starve to death. A hot wave of shame engulfed him. No, he'd never be able to become like Jacen, always strong enough to sacrifice whatever was necessary to efficiently accomplish his missions. Maybe that was a weakness in him, a flaw, but he simply couldn't help it. He'd never be able to live with the consequences.

He wrapped his arms around his legs, drawing them in as far as they would go to trap in as much body heat as he could, suddenly feeling lonely, scared and miserable. Comlink silence meant he couldn't even call his mom. And suddenly all he wanted to do was to hear her voice. He wallowed in his self pity for a while before sternly berating himself. He was fourteen now, not a kid anymore but almost a man grown. He had to take care of Kiara and Shaker and find them all a way off-world. So he steeled himself, shoving his fear deep down where he wouldn't be able to taste it anymore and instead focussed on the task at hand: keeping a watch out for the neks and other predators. And just so he wouldn't fall asleep, he slowly started rocking back and forth, humming tunelessly,  
"Happy birthday to me, Happy birthday to me/ Happy fourteenth to me/ Happy birthday to me..."

* * *

_Fifteenth_

_**[Post LOTF]**_

The alarm rang, irritatingly insistently. A sleepy hand shot out from under the covers to slap down on it and turn it off. One blue eye cracked open blearily to regard the time, see if it could remain closed for five more minutes. The chrono read:  
07:00 hrs; 41:5:10.  
The eye blinked once and read the date again.  
41:5:10  
Oh. It was his birthday. His fifteenth birthday. A tousled mop of red-gold hair had limply risen from beneath the blanket, but at this realization it flopped back down on the pillow with a groan, a ten-ton weight descending upon his chest.

He finally wandered into the kitchen at 07:30 hrs.  
His dad must have been up for a couple of hours at the least. Yes, there he was, flipping through the day's news and his schedule on his datapad. He envied him his calm sense of purpose when all he could feel was heavy, debilitating grief.  
His father turned at his entrance to greet him with a cheerful smile.  
"Hey, birthday boy's finally up! Happy birthday, son. Come here."  
He stepped obligingly into his father's embrace, but couldn't even bring himself to smile.  
Of course, his dad would sense there was something wrong.  
He drew back with a slight frown, studying his son's face with concern.  
Ben fidgeted uneasily.  
"You want to talk about it?" he asked, quietly. He wouldn't pry, Ben knew that. He would wait until Ben was ready to tell him what was wrong.

It wasn't until they met up after the usual long day at the Temple for the drive to his aunt's for his birthday dinner that Ben opened up to his father about the cause behind his uncharacteristic gloominess.  
"Mom promised last year that the whole family would be together this time, for my birthday," he confessed softly.*****  
Luke looked over, startled.  
"She did?"  
Ben nodded, concentrating his vision on his nails.  
His father sighed, staring ahead and resting a hand against his forehead.  
_There is no whole family any more. No Mara, no Jacen._  
"It's your birthday today, son," he said, finally.  
"I think it's time we made a new start."  
"You know, Dad, sometimes all this shit that keeps happening to us, I wish it would just...stop."  
His voice wasn't entirely steady. Luke reached over and placed a comforting hand on his knee.  
"This year will be better than the last, son. Don't lose hope. Not yet. Come on, you haven't seen half the shit we have, and have we given up? We'll make it."  
Ben couldn't tell whether his father's determination held for himself as well. He tried to smile. He really did.  
"And it's ok not to get over Mom."  
His father held his eye.  
"I don't think I ever will."  
Ben nodded.  
"Yeah, I know, Dad. I don't think I will either."

* * *

_Seventeenth_

_**[Sometime post- FOTJ: Allies]**_

Vestara entered the cockpit of the _Jade Shadow_ a few minutes before Ben did. He automatically walked up to take the co-pilot's seat beside his father.  
"Happy birthday," Luke greeted his son with a broad smile.  
Vestara could sense Ben was as taken aback as she was. He had obviously not been keeping track of the occasion in his own life. She glanced at the dashboard chrono.  
43:5:10.  
Ben returned his father's smile with a lopsided grin of his own.  
"Thanks."  
"Feel seventeen yet?"  
"More like seventy."  
Luke chuckled.  
"Don't go getting that far ahead of me, son."

It was a typical father-son moment, yet Vestara couldn't help feeling that she had just witnessed a very private moment between the two. She tried to imagine if her own family would have even bothered to remember her birthday, let alone wish her on it. Among the Sith, it was achievement that was lauded, and simply being born wasn't considered enough of an achievement on one's part.  
Father and son were still conversing quietly, ignoring her presence almost completely. There was a warm under-current to their banter, reflective of their close and loving bond, one that Vestara had found herself envying more often than she would have liked to admit.

"Go in and get some rest, Dad," Ben suggested, looking toward his father,"I can take control for a while."  
Luke nodded and rose to acquiesce. Ben slid over to take the pilot's chair and Vestara slipped into the seat he had just vacated.  
"Happy birthday," she said, smiling slightly.  
"Thanks."  
Ben's brief smile in her direction was genuine.  
"So what happens on your birthdays?" she asked, curiously.  
Ben cocked an eyebrow at her.  
"Let me guess. Sith don't have birthdays, right?"  
Vestara shrugged.  
Ben turned his attention back to the viewport.  
"Well, nothing fancy. The family gets together for dinner, I get a couple of presents, we celebrate. That's about it, really."  
"No presents this year?"  
Vestara's smirk was playfully teasing.  
Ben looked over at her, his blue eyes altogether too serious.  
"Everybody who was at my last birthday is alive and well on this one. Right now, that's good enough for me."

_**A/N 2: Wookieepedia gives the month of Ben's birth, but not the day, so I have set it as the tenth of the fifth month in the SW-verse.**_

_*** Mara had promised Ben after his fourteenth birthday had been spent with him away on a mission that the next year they would have a family get together to mark his birthday in the book LOTF Sacrifice.**_


	32. Problem

_**A/N: And so we come to it. The end of the road. I'm afraid this is going to be the last of my drabbles for a while. Never fear, this thread will remain open and I shall post on it whenever anything new strikes me, so for those who might want to see more, don't forget to follow this story so you can receive updates whenever I post!**_

_**There will be a set I shall be posting after I finish my long-shot fic, "Myri and Me", because they contain extreme spoilers for it and are directly derived from it.**_

_**Otherwise, it has been incredible fun writing these drabbles and a big thank you to all who read this series and were awesome enough to leave reviews! Love you guys! :D**_

_****_**Problem**

Jedi Master Kyp Durron flopped down onto the bench at the Masters' table in the Temple's mess-hall with a disgruntled expression on his face. Corran Horn, smirked at him while chewing his food.  
"What's got your ponytail in a twist, Master Durron?"  
Kyp blew out a breath of exhaustion.  
"Ben Skywalker."  
All the Masters collected at the table murmured words of sympathy, nodding their own heads in agreement. Master Saba Sebatyne, sitting a couple of places down, sissed in amusement.  
"What did the hatchling do thiszz time, Master Durron?"  
Kyp's brows creased in irritation as he remembered the incident from a little while ago.  
"That little Ronto_ locked_ me into a flight simulator and then disappeared!"  
There were titters and snorts of laughter all around and more sissing from Saba.  
"He iszz as sly as a shenbit, that one! But being locked in a flight simulator can hardly have been a challenge for a Jedi Master?"  
Kyp shook his head.  
"No, of course not. I got out in two seconds. But in that time he'd managed to completely give me the slip! And he still hides from the Force, so I wasn't even able to feel him anywhere! And I had taken him on at the express wishes of the Grand Master that he be taught some basics of flying a starfighter."  
Corran Horn nodded absently.  
"He's a strange one, that kid. A Skywalker who isn't obsessed with ships! But he's prodigious in the Force, I must say, if he's still able to hide from it...such that even a Master can't find him."  
Kyp flung Corran an annoyed glare, hearing a masked jibe in his words, but the Corellian only responded with another smirk.

Kyle Katarn, Jedi Battlemaster, chose this moment to enter into the conversation.  
"I agree with Kyp. No offence to the Masters Skywalker, but they seriously have not been able to keep a handle on their son. Do you know what he did to me the other day? I had a Combat Basics class with his batch and left my lightsaber behind in the training room. When I went back for it, it was lying just where I'd left it, innocent as you please, except that the moment I tried to lift it up, it disintegrated in my hand! I could distinctly detect Ben's Force-signature as having been the last one to touch it. He'd completely dismantled the thing, but left it lying there looking as though nothing was wrong! And all in the space of a few minutes!"  
Master Katarn shook his head in bewilderment.  
"Sometimes I don't know whether to be impressed or furious! He's been wisely avoiding me ever since", he concluded, returning to his soup.

Jedi healer Master Cilghal had so far maintained her peace, listening to the others with a glimmer of amusement in her bulbous eyes, but now she too leaned forward to contribute her piece.  
"Every time young Ben shows up in my medward, which is extremely often, thanks to his growing gallery of cuts and bruises and sprains, he literally rifles the supplies cabinet whenever he thinks I'm not looking! He is convinced that I have a secret stash of contraband liquour and keeps asking me where I 'hide the booze'!"  
She had to pause in the midst of her anecdote thanks to the surprised bursts of laughter erupting all around her. Even her lips twitched a little as if concealing a spurt of humour.  
"I'm sure someone, and my guess is his uncle, told him that I keep alcohol in the infirmary, purely for use as an antiseptic and disinfectant of course, and he's taken that to mean that I regularly snort whisky in the Temple! As if my constitution would even permit such a thing!"  
It was a commonly known fact that alcohol was extremely poisonous for a Mon Calamari.

Saba Sebatyne, after much effort to control her explosions of sissing, interjected with her own complaint.  
"Do you know I've actually caught that little shenbit hatchling following me like this?"  
Saba drew in her arms to the elbows and stiffened them to make ferocious claws and then contorted her face into a grimace and rocked from side to side, occasionally growling and making clawing gestures in the air. This time the entire table erupted in howls of laughter. Kyle Katarn clutched his sides and gasped for air while Corran Horn weakly banged his fist on the table. It took all of them quite a while to regain Jedi Master-like composure. Cilghal wiped great tears leaking from her bulbous eyes, still wheezing. Saba had a huge reptilian grin gracing her face.

A calm voice laced with humour spoke up from behind.  
"I presume my erstwhile charge's latest antics are the topic of discussion today?"  
Kam Solusar joined the Masters' group on the bench. Corran nodded, moving over to make room for him.  
"He's got us all on his tail, for one reason or the other. Do you know that whenever I catch him bunking a class he runs to find Valin to hide behind? He believes my son is some sort of human shield against me!"  
Kam nodded, smiling fondly, remembering numerous occasions when Ben had proved a challenge even for him, when he'd been raising him in Shelter. He looked around at his compatriots, then ran a hand through his hair.  
"If my hair hadn't already been white to begin with, I swear, with all I had to undergo at his hands in Shelter, it would have become so in no time!"  
His face assumed a mournful expression, the look in his eyes far away.  
"Wrestling, that's all we would do with him. Wrestle him to bed, wrestle him into taking a bath, wrestle him into eating, wrestle him away from play at the end of the day..."  
He shook his head.  
"I confess, after we returned, I used to wonder how Luke and Mara would manage with him!"  
"But you missed him afterwards, and all that you've just been complaining about, didn't you?"  
Kam turned to find himself caught out by his wife, who had come up just behind him, and was standing her lips pursed, and her hands on her hips. She came forward to join them on the bench as well.  
"Surely young Ben can't have been proving himself such a problem?"  
Kam leaned over to make a point.  
"Tionne, he was fond of you. He never gave you half as hard a time."  
Tionne stared back at her husband incredulously.  
"What in the world are you talking about?! He adored you! If I would be alone with him for five minutes, he'd begin searching frantically for his 'KamKam'! Or have you forgotten?"  
Kam leaned back, looking a little sheepish. Tionne glanced around at the assembled Masters.  
"I'll admit Ben can be a challenge to control, but once you take the effort to understand him, you won't have a problem with him at all. He's a very loving and lively child and smart as a whip."  
"Oh there's no doubts there," Corran agreed. "The boy thinks on his feet. You give him a choice, and he'll always be looking for the third alternative."  
A number of murmurs acquiesced with the Corellian Master on this point.  
Tionne's eyes were sparkling with a concealed mirth as she leaned forward over the table, pointing her fork to emphasize a point.  
"I wonder if all you Masters have ever noticed that you actually end up having a lot of fun around Ben Skywalker. I don't believe I've met a boy, and this includes Jacen Solo, so that's saying a lot, who can make me laugh quite so much and so frequently. Why, wasn't there a lot of laughter coming from this very table just a few moments ago?"  
She smiled warmly, thinking of the mischievous little child she'd once had in her care.  
"For me, that will always be his most winning quality."

All the Masters considered Tionne's statement realizing the truth hidden within it. Ben Skywalker was a very special little boy. Because it took something special to bring laughter to a time of constant uncertainty when there was precious little of it around. And on this, as one, the Masters agreed.

_**A/N 2: I just can't get enough of little Ben's mischief, can you?! ;P**_


	33. Broken

_**A/N: Just when I thought the drabbles had dried up, here is another that popped into my head a couple of days ago ;P**_

_Breaking an arm's no big deal, when you're a Jedi,_ young Ben Skywalker mused, _That's kinda the problem._

He sat in the Jedi Temple infirmary, swinging his legs against the high bunk and holding his left arm stiffly out in front of him. A highly over-ambitious _Jar'Kai_ move with a training saber seeking to impress his fellow apprentices had left Ben writhing in pain on the floor of the practice arena and had brought his mother running to hustle him to the med center for treatment. How embarrassing! Ben had to regain his street-cred somehow, or he'd forever be branded a "Mama's Boy"!

So as Master healer Cilghal closed her eyes and prepared to lay her large flippered hands on his broken arm, call on the Force and heal him in a matter of minutes, young Ben decided to speak up.  
"Uh... Master Cilghal?"  
The Mon Calamari's eyes fluttered open in surprise.  
"Yes, Ben?", she enquired kindly.  
"Is-is this going ta hurt?"  
"Oh no. Not at all."  
"And it's gonna be over in a minute, right?"  
Cilghal smiled reassuringly.  
"In just a few minutes, padawan."  
Ben chewed his lip for a moment.  
"Then can I get a cast, please?"  
Master Cilghal's naturally bulbous eyes widened even further.  
"A cast?"  
"Yeah."  
"But Ben, that's going to take weeks to heal! Why would you want a cast?"  
Ben's face split into a wide grin.  
"Coz it's way cooler!"  
Cilghal regarded him perplexedly.  
"It's going to hurt, Ben. Are you sure about this?"  
"Sure!" he responded, excitedly, "You can give me something for the pain, right?"  
Something in Cilghal's heart twisted at the easy way in which the six-year old was able to shrug off thoughts of pain. She wondered how much longer he'd view it that way.

* * *

A while later, the Mon Cal healer led a proudly beaming Ben out of the ward to his mother waiting anxiously outside.  
Mara Jade Skywalker stared, astounded, at the sight of her son, his left arm slung in a bright blue sling and wrapped up in stiff white plaster, then wordlessly raised her eyes to meet the healers'. She shrugged helplessly.  
"He insisted on the cast, Mara."

A few minutes later, they entered Luke's office. Ben had almost skipped the entire way, so excited was he with his new badge of honour.  
Luke Skywalker's reaction mirrored that of his wife only moments earlier. He regarded the two perplexedly.  
Mara gave a dramatic flourish indicating Ben.  
"Meet your son, the war hero."  
She heaved a sigh that was half exasperation, half amusement.  
Luke came forward to kneel in front of his son.  
"What happened to you, buddy?"  
His voice wasn't entirely free of worry.  
Ben's grave face was tragic enough to have made a holodrama actor proud.  
"I broke my arm, Dad. It's pretty serious. Even Master Cilghal couldn't fix it."  
Luke fought the urge to smile.  
"She couldn't?"  
Ben shook his head.  
"I could've _died_! That's why I gotta wear this cast. For a whole _month_! Isn't it _astral_, Dad?"  
Luke couldn't hide his grin any longer. He straightened and crossed his arms over his chest.  
"And that's your story, huh?"  
Ben nodded firmly.  
"Uh-huh. And I'm sticking to it."


	34. Heat

_**A/N: Here they are. As promised. This week's worth of drabbles will all be exclusively set in the Myri and Me universe and contain severe spoilers for those who haven't read that story. You have been warned! P**_

**Heat**

She had always admired that he was an incredibly talented dancer. And it never failed to turn her on. He would never hide his passion while doing what he loved, reflecting it through his entire body. He had a grace and surety of movement that made him as deadly in a duel as on the dance-floor and his gentle, yet assured leading touch would make her feel like a similar expert whenever she partnered him. Did he make all his partners feel this way? The sudden thought struck a sharp pang of jealousy in her.

Perhaps he felt it. For instantly his face split in a rakish grin and he was flush up against her in a step, his hand pressing firmly into her back, his eyes boring intensely into hers.  
Her husband took her breath away. She focussed on calming herself.

"I think I have a condition."

Her eyes traced hungrily down the line of bare chest visible through his half-open black shirt.

"A condition?"

His voice would go deliciously deep whenever he desired her, and she felt thrilled by the feeling that he wanted her now almost as much as she wanted him.

"I don't think I'm ever going to be cool with you dancing with anyone else ever again."

His eyes twinkled in the soft light of the galley, decorated specially for their honeymoon tango.

"Don't you think that's why I married you?"

He swept her down in a fluid movement, so that she was dangling above the floor, with only his hand beneath to support her. She felt her neck heat up. His eyes were pools of midnight blue that she longed to drown in, and his words were ferocious as he said in the spirit of a vow.

"I wanted all the rest of my dances only to be with you."


	35. Terrified

**_A/N: Post Myri and Me. Enjoy and do let me know what you think!_**

**Terrified**

She watched his expression change from laughter to eye-widening shock in the split-second it took for the words to escape her lips. He had been making one of his usual teasing jokes just a moment before.

She just stood there, searching his clear blue eyes, biting her lip and waiting for his response. She had rehearsed this scene in her mind a thousand times, anticipated his shock, but now that she was faced with it, she realized it terrified her. She needed him to hold her, to tell her that everything was going to be alright, that he would be there for her no matter what.  
The silence surrounding them was deafening.

And suddenly, he sprang up, engulfing her in one of those hugs that would take her breath away.  
"Myri," he breathed, "Oh wow! Are you sure?"  
She looked up and nodded.  
His grin was light-years wide, but it did nothing to ease the thumping of her heart.  
"Ben...I'm scared."  
She knew she should be happy, but the discovery had been simply too overwhelming.  
"Aren't you?" she asked him. She needed to know it wasn't this freaky just for her.  
Ben's grin never wavered for a moment. If possible, it might just have grown wider.  
"Terrified."  
He rested his hand on her still-flat stomach.  
"Just tell me it's not twins!"


	36. Marie

****_**Post "Myri and Me".**_

**Marie**

The first time they put her in his arms, it seemed the universe swayed around him.  
_It couldn't be! No, it simply couldn't! Could it...?_  
Because though he was seeing her for the very first time, her hair, her eyes... even in miniature they seemed dreadfully familiar.  
He rushed out into the hall, much to his wife's consternation.  
"Dad!"  
He had to see this! He would understand.

Luke Skywalker came running. As much as old age would permit him to. His face lit up in a brilliant smile as he saw the bundle in his son's arms.  
"Ben..."  
He looked at him, and his heart almost skipped a beat. For the first time he felt a cold tendril of fear.  
"Ben, what is it? Is... is there something wrong?"  
"Look..."  
He held the baby out to him, still whimpering softly.  
Luke gently took his newborn granddaughter into his arms... and instantly fought to bite back a gasp.  
"Dad...you see it don't you?"  
Their eyes were similar pictures of wonder.  
"It's her."  
Ben reached in a finger to touch the soft shock of red-gold hair and his daughter's eyes swerved to meet him.  
_Brilliant jade green eyes._  
Luke handed her back to her father, not trusting himself to keep from trembling.  
"I- I..."  
"She's come back to us, Dad."  
Ben's voice was a reverent whisper. He cradled the baby closer to his chest.  
Luke came over to stand beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder.  
"You know, Ben, they say that those who love us never really leave us. But I'd say she gets it from you."  
"Green eyes?"  
Ben raised his eyebrows skeptically but Luke smiled.  
"You got a lot of your looks from Mom. I'm sure you had it within you somewhere."  
"The boys both have blonde hair and blue eyes," he countered.

Tyrion, Ben and Myri's eldest son, who seemed to have it all figured out by the tender age of 5, had taken after his mother in terms of his looks, but was a spitting copy of his father, when it came to his actions and personality. Brandon, Bran, for short, was an almost polar opposite, with his grandfather's sandy blonde hair and his quiet shyness to match. He would follow his older brother wherever he chose to lead, but generally ended up being the one to save his older sibling's butt from the inevitable trouble that followed.

Luke had a tender smile on his lips as the two looked down on the little child.  
"Something tells me she's not going to be one of the boys, son."

Myri looked up anxiously as Ben re-entered with their daughter and struggled to sit up. Her husband gently laid her back, with a soft kiss to the forehead, smiling as he handed the baby to her mother. Myri's fears weren't assuaged so easily. She still stared at him worriedly, tears almost starting in her eyes.  
"Ben... is- is everything all right? Did- did you... feel something? Please, Ben! You have to tell me!"  
Ben slid in to sit behind her on the bed supportively, still smiling reassuringly.  
"Everything's perfect, sweetheart. She's perfect. It-it's just that she startled her daddy, that's all."  
Myri's eyes still looked at him questioningly.  
Ben wrapped his arms around them both, drawing them closer into a warm hug as he tried to explain.  
"Eight, she-she's the spitting image of my Mom. Her hair, her eyes, her face...the resemblance is so uncanny... it had me going there for a minute."  
This time Myri looked down at her daughter in wonder.  
"Wow! You're-you're right! I didn't actually look at it that way."  
She paused for a second, touching the baby's cheek with her finger.  
"What did your dad think? Is it-is it something to do with the Force?"  
"He said there's probably a simpler explanation. I take a lot after my Mom. She probably just got it all from me."  
She looked at him suspiciously, but his eyes were twinkling.  
"Look, I know I named both our boys and I wanted you to name this one, but...I have a suggestion for her name. It'll still be up to you to take the final call, of course."  
His wife nodded, urging him to continue.  
"I was thinking...how about, Marie? It's a combination of her mother's name as well as mine. Mara and Myri. Marie."  
"Marie..."  
Myri let the name roll on her tongue, then looked at her daughter.  
"Marie..."  
She looked up to her husband.  
"Yes, it's beautiful, Ben. I love it. She's going to be our Marie."

_**A/N: In case any of you were wondering, yes, the boys names are a tribute to my other favourite fan-verse, George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones! But I've always kinda liked the name 'Brandon Skywalker'...**_

_**And Ben's nickname for Myri in my universe is "Eight". Because of the 8-yr age difference between them and the infinity symbol she had inscribed inside his wedding ring (which looks like the figure 8 sideways) which is an inside reference that only those who have read "Myri and Me" will understand. Again, just in case you were wondering...**_


	37. Kindness

_**A/N: Post "Myri and Me". Featuring one of my OC's from the fic (finally!). Again, may not make sense unless you've read Myri and Me.**_

**Kindness**

The acrid smoke of blaster bolts stung Fletcher Dyce's eyes and made them water. He rapidly blinked to clear his vision, feeling the exhilarated thumping of his heart as he ducked behind the over-turned landspeeder for cover from a fresh barrage.

_Gang up with Jedi, and you'll never be short on action_, he thought, a grim smile on his face.

Up ahead he could see flashes of green and blue through the smoke and hear the _zat-zat_ of twin lightsabers as Ben Skywalker and Valin Horn fought their foes in tandem.

Suddenly, he heard a cry. His heart jolted within him. Someone had been caught in the cross-fire, and by the sounds of it, very possibly injured. Almost instantly, he saw the blue lightsaber veer away towards the source of the sound.

Fletcher swore under his breath.  
"Kriff it, Skywalker! You're going to get yourself killed!"

Over the noise of the battle he could hear Valin shouting words of the same effect to his partner. To no avail.

Ben raced towards the fringe, where a dusty body lay crumpled, barely discernible behind the flying clouds of dust. He was using his lightsaber as a shield to ward off the stray bolts that flew his way from all directions. Valin was in the centre, whirling like a dervish, completely in tune with the Force, beating back his attackers with ease.  
Ben had the injured man slung over his shoulder, but this meant his movement was hampered. He was barely able to defend himself from the few blasts coming his way. Keeping low, Fletcher edged towards him.  
"Ben! Leave him! You'll get yourselves both killed!"

"Sorry, Fletch," Ben shouted back. "I won't leave collateral damage, you know that!"

"Give him to me then! I'll get him to a medcenter!"

His friend flashed him a grin.  
"Cover Valin! I'll take care of this one!"

Fletch shook his head in resignation.  
"Your ill-considered sympathy is your weakness!"

Ben was caught off-guard as a shot strayed too close. He stumbled, just about managing to get it on his blade, wincing with the extra effort.  
But he still managed to catch Fletcher's eye.  
"Your...fault," he gasped out, "Learnt from...your example."

Despite the danger of their situation, Fletch couldn't help his warm smile.

Saving a life had earned him some valuable friends in the past. Maybe this time it would too.


	38. Cult

_**A/N: Post "Myri and Me". A little strange perhaps, but just an idea I ran with.**_

**Cult**

It all started with a picture of him, childish and hand-drawn, made out of gratitude by a little girl whose life he had saved. Somehow a holo-reporter got hold of it, and soon, it was all over the Holo-Net.

Then the image began appearing everywhere: on t-shirts and bags, shoes and buttons and tattoos. It bore the bold caption, _"RED"_.  
It became a fashion statement among youngsters to own atleast something with that now iconic, cult image on it, and Ben Skywalker began to grow alarmed.

_Red._  
The name his wife called him, lovingly and in private.

_Red hair._  
His legacy from his mother.

_Blue eyes._  
His father's eyes. Eyes he had handed down to his own sons.

_A blue lightsaber._  
The only heirloom from his grandfather...

_"Red!"_ they called him. He had become a hero.

_"The Hero Without Fear!"_  
They recalled the moniker from the depths of the past.

_"The __**true**__ Chosen One!"  
_  
_"Skywalker! Skywalker! Skywalker!"  
_  
The chant went on and on and on.

And suddenly Ben Skywalker felt afraid. More afraid than he had ever been when confronting the Dark Side.  
Afraid of his name and how it could steal his identity away from him.


	39. Lop-sided Grin

_**Post Myri and Me**_

**Lop-sided grin**

Myri hated his lop-sided grin. The very one he'd picked up from his uncle, Han Solo.

Because every time one of those idiotic fan-girl admirers of his came up to gush and fawn all over him, he'd flash it in their direction, basking in the cheap adulation.

She hated to admit it, but it left her all hot and bothered.

He insisted it was important to be approachable for the people and maintain a popular public image. But in this respect, she agreed with his father.

He was a Jedi Knight! Surely he wasn't supposed to be going around behaving like a holofilm poster-boy!

Of course that wasn't the real reason. She'd never, ever, on pain of death reveal the real reason!

Which was that she felt jealous every time her husband flashed that flirtatious grin toward any woman who was not her.  
He was _her_ man. All and only _hers_! She had a _right_ to be possessive of him!

And she well knew the dangers of that Solo-esque lop-sided grin.  
After all, she'd fallen for it herself.


	40. Music

_**A/N: Post Myri and Me. Set during Ben and Myri's honeymoon on Naboo :D**_

**Music**

He saw her coming down to the fire he'd started on the beach. The wind rustled her thin cotton dress and made her hair wave. He couldn't tear his eyes away. Her figure bathed in moonlight walked barefoot by the lake side, enjoying the feel of the warm sand between her toes. She smiled as she approached, taking in his well-toned musculature above the simple shorts which were all he had on. He pulled her down beside him and she fell into his arms, giggling as he nuzzled her playfully.  
Later, they stared into each other's eyes, behaving exactly like the foolish lovestruck couple they were. And he pulled out the guitar he always carried wherever he went and began to strum her a love song.

_You knew it didn't you_  
_I gave my heart away the first time I laid eyes on you_  
_You always held the key_  
_It was always there prepared to be whatever you wanted of me_

_But you tossed it aside_  
_Left it to gather dust while you ran to hide_  
_And I was all alone _  
_Waiting waiting waiting for the day you'd decide to come home_

_Finally you dug it out again_  
_And found that it had always been _  
_Waiting for you so patiently_

_You were the keeper of my heart_  
_The owner of my love_  
_I gave it all to you that day_  
_For ever and always._

**_(* original composition.)_**

Myri leaned in to kiss him.  
"You're such a sentimental fool, Red," she teased.  
Ben breathed in deeply, tracing a finger lightly down her creamy skin until she wriggled.  
"You have to admit it's what got your attention."  
"The foolishness? Or the music?"  
He turned to look at her, the firelight burning in his eyes just as it danced in hers.  
"You tell me."  
"Well...you were stupid enough to strip for me on a bar for a dare..."  
Ben was moving toward her now, on hands and knees, his muscles rippling like those of a sand panther. Suddenly Myri felt flushed.  
"I was stupid, huh? Go on then, dare me to do something else."  
She scrambled away, just out of his reach so that he sprawled in the sand. But the fire in his eyes was unquenched. Myri felt a tingle race up her back. Gods! How she loved ravishing his body with her eyes!  
She put a finger on his chest to stop him just as he was within a hands-breadth of her, gazing deep into his burning pools of midnight blue.  
"And what was it for you, Red? What got your attention? My foolish flirting with a guy so much younger than me? Or the music?"  
Ben grinned like a nexu, waiting to pounce.  
"Oh it was the music. Definitely the music. I don't think I could ever have fallen for a woman who didn't feel for music the way I do."


	41. Lullaby

**_A/N: And this is it. Really it! I got no more drabbles left, I swear!_**

**_The following drabble has been inspired by a beautiful song which is a rendition of a lullaby, so this should ideally have been a songfic. I would have loved to share the song with all of you too, except that it's not in English._**

**_Post "Myri and Me"._**

**Lullaby**

If anyone asked her what the favourite part of her day was, she would have to say it was this. She stood just outside the door to the over-size bedroom, listening. In their house, the kids never fell asleep to bed-time stories. Instead, her husband would pull out his old acoustic guitar and play them a tune. And they would never manage to keep their eyes open after that.

It was the same song he played every night. The kids would insist, and he would never refuse them. The soft, scratchy, simple harmony, and the three little children, two blonde heads, one red, would be struggling to blink as the melody caught them up and rocked them to sleep.

They would be fast asleep by the time he finished, and he would pause for just a second before putting his guitar away, surveying all three with that smile that melted her heart just to look at. He would kiss them all fleetingly on the forehead before turning to her with the same smile, beckoning her to follow his example. She would, and they would turn to leave, switching off all except the softest glow-lamp in the corner.

Yes, this was definitely the best part of Myri's day. Ben Skywalker owned bedtime.


	42. Farmboy

**_A/N: From now on, the drabbles will become erratic as I shall be posting only when I think up a new one. No guarantees on when those times will be! So pls follow this story if you want to stay updated as to when I post._**

**Farmboy**

We looked into each other's eyes of identical blue, both at eighteen years of age, but I wondered what differences he might have noted in mine had the figure before me been real. I was looking at an old and grainy hologram of my father, retrieved by Artoo from one of his more remotely located memory-banks. It had been one of the very few taken at a time in his life to which I had never somehow been able to relate: his childhood on Tatooine.

_Farmboy._  
That was what my mother had used to call him.  
_Her Farmboy._  
And looking at the holo, I had to admit, he did look absurdly rustic.

I still had trouble accepting this had been my father as a young man. Look at him! Standing in the sun, smiling brilliantly into the holocam, dangling a pilot's helmet cockily beside his old T-16 skyhopper.  
He looked so young! Almost_ too_ young to be the Luke Skywalker I had grown up knowing.  
His face had been absolutely devoid of the lines etched in by later years worth of laughter, age and worry.  
But his eyes! They were what enthralled me the most. I knew I had inherited those very eyes, but I had to wonder, had mine ever _ever _looked so free of care, so innocent, so... naive?

I had been born headlong in the middle of a war, grown up in the tumult that was the galactic capital of Coruscant. And I had never really known true peace. Eighteen years of life had already left me battle-scarred. The sort of childhood I'd had had left no place for innocence. How much of what I had been through had he experienced in that same time?  
I knew the answer to that. None.

It was what made those same blue eyes dim nowadays when he looked at me. They had lost a lot of their old lustre, even from what I remembered, and his boyish face had become hard and weathered with age and care. I believe Dad's greatest regret was that he'd had that one most precious thing he had never been able to give me.  
A childhood.

I shut off the holo-viewer. I would never be able to place him in that setting on Tatooine. I'd heard all the stories, of course, but for me, that's simply all they would remain- stories.

I shook my head, smiling to myself wryly.  
_What a Farmboy!_


	43. Evil

_**A/N: So you thought Luke Skywalker was always a nice guy? His son might beg to disagree...!**_  
_**(The following pieces are not related to each other nor are they in any form of continuity.)**_

**Evil**

"Hey Dad?"

"Hmmmm?"

"Could I borrow some money?"

"How much?"

"Ummm... 200 creds?"

"No."

"Ummm... could I get a reason why?"

"No."

_*sigh*_  
"Why're you doin' this to me, Dad?"

"Oh? Well, I'm your father. Because I can!"

* * *

"Well, we best get some sleep while we can, son. Big battle against the Sith tomorrow."

"Yeah. I'm pretty psyched for that."

"Oh and Ben? You did remember to charge our lightsabers, didn't you?"

_*silence*_

"Ben?"

"Uhhhh... s-sure, Dad!"

_*silence*_

"You think you could wise-crack 'em enough so they just run away?"

"Uhhh... I-I could give it a shot...?"

"Oh boy. We're in trouble. _*sigh*_ Goodnight, son."

"G-g'night, Dad..."

* * *

"Say, Dad? What're you thinking of getting me for my birthday this year? It's in a couple weeks..."

"Haven't really thought about it."

"Could I- I mean, I was wonderin' if maybe... You know that Tagge T-57 model speeder I've been eyeing for a while now? The nifty little red one...?"

_*silence*_  
"Son, let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, on a sand pile farthest from the bright centre to this universe, there lived a young boy named Anakin Skywalker. Now, he was just like you. He, too, wanted a vehicle really really badly. So you know what he did? He built one! How about that, huh?! He was also your grandfather. Maybe you could take a lesson from him."

_*rueful look*_  
"I won't be getting that speeder, will I?"

"Not unless you can build it yourself."

"And you wouldn't loan me enough money for it, would you?"

"Not in this lifetime!"

"How about atleast paying me minimum wage for being such a smashing Jedi Knight?!"

"Do I _look_ like the Coruscant Galactic Bank to you?!"

_*sigh*_  
"You're a cruel old man."

"Don't I know it!"

* * *

_**A/N 2: Aaaaand this is what the Skywalker boys get up to without Mara to keep them on a leash! What can you say?! :P **_  
_**Well, it's holiday season round my part of the world, so Fettkat will be on a wee hiatus for a while. This was a bit of light humour to light up the weekend. Happy Diwali everyone! :D**_


	44. Cookies

****_**[Fettkat is back from hiatus!]**_

**Cookies**

"Oh Ben, dear, would you come and help me string up these lights for Fete Day?"

Seven-year old Ben Skywalker tore away his concentration from the vid game he was currently engaged in playing with his uncle, where he was a whole squadron of TIE fighters out to hunt down and blow up the nefarious _Millennium Falcon_ which was currently ducking and weaving crazily in his sights and regarded his aunt with an enthusiastic smile.

"Sure thing, Aunt Leia!"

His uncle, Han Solo, pounding furiously at the game console as he concentrated, his tongue between his teeth, interrupted.  
"Kid, I'm about to blow your ass! You sure you want to leave this?"

Ben's attention swivelled back to the game and he had to move fast to prevent a few more fighters in his squadron from being incinerated by the mighty_ Falcon's_ laser cannons.  
"Sithspawn, Uncle Han! You almost got me there!"

Although his uncle didn't bat an eyelid at this casual use of a swear-word, his aunt raised her brows and pursed her lips on the opposite side of the room. As if it wasn't bad enough that he must have naturally inherited a mouth for verbal abuse from his mother, her husband here was acting as no better influence for the boy!

She strode over to the two of them on the couch, hunched over their individual game controls with near-identical expressions of extreme concentration on their faces.  
"Alright, that's enough you two! You've been at it for hours. Han, I need help putting up the Fete Day lights and I'm sure you can find something more important for yourself to do if you think hard enough!"

"Awww, Leia! You can do it just as well yourself, you know that. Just...gimme...a minute..."  
On-screen the_ Falcon_ juked and jinked in front of a descending flight of TIEs.

Leia sighed, shook her head and decided to attack from another angle.  
Leaning over behind her nephew she wheedled into his ear,  
"Ben, sweetheart, you help me out with the Fete Day lights every year, don't you? You know I could never do it without you. How about you let your uncle win this round, huh? You can come back and get him later. Besides, I might just happen to have some of your faaaavourite chocolate cookies in the kitchen and if you come with me, I might let you have some..."

As if in a trance, the boy promptly abandoned his controller and followed his smirking aunt towards the apartment's balcony.

"Hey!" Han called in protest, suddenly finding all the challenge (and therefore all the fun!) in the game falling away.  
"No Jedi mind tricks on family, Leia!"

His wife looked back over her shoulder as she retreated, herding their nephew before her, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.  
"Oh that wasn't a mind trick, honey," she countered.  
"I just beat you using cookies!"

_**[A/N: And that's why the Dark Side has cookies! Let the 'Hunger Games' begin! Mwahahahaha!]**_


	45. Seventeen

**Seventeen**

Han Solo leaned back on the couch, setting his crossed feet up on the caf table with a satisfied _plunk_. He had never really realized in all these years that he had missed the occasional moment of solitude. Well, today he had the entire afternoon to himself. Leia and Jaina were out, "wedding shopping", to which they had wisely not even considered inviting him and had opted to take 3PO instead.  
Han let out a contented sigh, having poured himself a good quantity of Whyren's Reserve, and reached for the remote to switch on the HoloNet.  
It was not to be.

The door alarm buzzed with startling alacrity and Han threw it a baleful glare before reluctantly drawing himself up to open it.  
Seeing the expression on his brother-in-law's face outside, he bit back the sharp remark he had had prepared and instead stood aside so that Luke Skywalker, looking utterly shell-shocked, could stumble in and fall onto the couch.

Han was on the alert immediately; there was not much that could happen and leave Luke looking like that, and the things that could...? Well, Han would rather not think about them.  
"Spill it, kid. Should I start getting the _Falcon_ warmed up? Where's the fire?"  
Luke dropped his head into his hands and groaned.  
Han frowned. This was unexpected.  
"Luke? What's up? What's wrong?"  
"How did I not see it coming?"  
It came out muffled from between Luke's fingers.  
Han's sense of foreboding grew.  
"Kid, stay with me. Should I comm Leia and Jaina? They could be here in minutes."  
Finally Luke looked up, his blue irises stretched wide with shock.  
"Han..." he croaked.  
Han eased himself back onto the couch beside Luke, looking truly worried by now.  
"I-I... Do you know what I saw when I walked into my living room this morning?"  
Luke stared far out into the distance.  
"My-my son was sleeping with-with_ a girl_! On the couch! _Naked!_"

At that moment, Han could have hit him. Luke didn't appear to care, still staring parsecs out the window.  
The two men sat in silence for a few minutes until, with a sigh, Han stood up again.  
"Whisky?"  
"Please."  
Stifling a grin, he made his way over to the liquor cabinet to pour his guest a drink, thinking how like his nephew it was to drive his poor father to the bottle.  
_Well_, he thought to himself,_ that's what comes of having teenagers!_

When he returned, Luke was still looking miserable.  
"So you roasted him, huh?"  
"Of course!"  
Luke looked vaguely annoyed that the question had even had to be asked.  
"I sent them scrambling for their clothes and gave Ben a good piece of my mind. You know I can't have that kind of behaviour in my house! But it's the next round I'm not looking forward to."  
Han could sympathize. Luke took a cautious sip of the Whyren's, then made a face.  
"How could I have let it come to this? Mara would never have let something like this happen."  
Han used his glass to point out.  
"See that's where you're wrong, kid. Mara would have understood. Sometimes a seventeen year-old's gotta do what a seventeen year-old's gotta do! You can't let it get to you."  
Luke scowled at him.  
"Easy for you to say. You didn't have to concern yourself with either of your sons' budding sexual maturity!"  
"But I did have to with my daughter," Han warned.  
"And that's a zillion times worse any day!"  
Luke reluctantly had to agree.  
Han scoffed.  
"Don't tell me you weren't as bad at seventeen! I know_ I_ was!"  
He glanced archly at Luke, his lop-sided smirk gracing his lips.  
"Although, on second thoughts, maybe_ you_ weren't!"  
Luke was about to launch into a spirited protest, but Han waved him into silence.  
"Anyways, I've got more important problems on my plate than your finding out that your little boy is far from being a virgin!"  
His brows lowered darkly and this time his feet settled on the caf table with more force than necessary.  
"Have you realized that I will now have to smile and act nice around Soontir Fel and treat him like he's_ family_?! Your sister insists."  
Luke looked over at him.  
"Uh...Han? Once Jaina gets married to Jag, Soontir Fel _will_ be family!"  
Han downed his drink in a single swallow.  
"When did it get so hard being fathers, eh kid?" he sighed.  
Luke smiled ruefully and nodded.  
"Yeah, when was it we started getting to this point?"  
The two exchanged a look that said they both knew what the other was thinking and sighed in chorus.  
"Seventeen."


	46. Nanny

**Nanny**

He'd had a bad feeling about this from the start.  
Right from the moment C-3PO had enthusiastically introduced him to his new babysitter.  
A droid. And not just any droid, but a_ Nanny Droid _! It was the ultimate humiliation. What did his parents think he was?! A_ baby _?! He didn't need a_ nanny droid _ to look after him! He was perfectly capable of looking after himself and keeping himself out of danger! Sometimes, Mom and Dad could just go nova over the silliest things!

Which was why the first meeting between Ben Skywalker and Nanna wasn't so much an introduction as a face-off, with the six-year old boy glowering up at the modified TDL-cum-YVH-1 droid, towering over him with a sickeningly sweet smile plastered onto its artificially cherubic face.  
Ben's mouth twisted into a dark scowl. The droid bent forward and placed two of her hands upon her knees so they were at the same level.  
"Why hello, Ben. I'm Nanna! I think you and I are going to be great friends and have a lot of fun together!"  
Even her voice grated on his nerves! He couldn't_ stand_ her and he'd only just met her! This was never going to work.

But Ben forced himself to think about what was at stake. If he didn't get along with this new droid, Mom and Dad would never let him accompany them on their missions! And he'd be stuck at the Academy and forced to attend lessons and meditate and stuff! He honestly couldn't figure which option was worse.  
Maybe he could convince them to let Artoo stay with him instead. Artoo was loads better than this stupid, squeaky-voiced droid! But then again, Artoo had been acting awfully cranky lately. Maybe he wouldn't be such a good option right now.

Ben sighed. He'd have to figure out another way to deal with this situation.  
So he stepped forward and did his best to look awe-struck and interested.  
"Wow! Were you once a YVH-1? I've heard they're really deadly!"  
"Well, Ben, I do contain some of the configurations of a YVH-1, but that's only to protect you."  
"Like blaster cannons?"  
"I have retractable blaster cannons installed in my upper arms."  
"Astral! Can I see?"  
Nanna's arms rapidly changed to produce chromium-plated full salvo blaster cannons.  
Ben made his eyes as round as he could.  
"But Nanna. You're so awfully tall! I can't really see. Could you lift me up?"  
"I don't think it would be a good idea to let you so near my armament assembly, Ben. You might accidentally hurt yourself."  
"Awww, Nanna! I just wanna look! I won't touch_ anything_, I promise!"  
Ben's lower lip jutted out in a difficult-to-resist pout.  
Finally, Nanna conceded.  
"Alright, Ben. But you're not to touch anything, understand?"  
"Sure!"  
Nanna's lower synthskin arms reached down and lifted him off the ground with ease, bringing him up to the level of her chest.

Ben managed to look suitably impressed as he reached out a hand to grasp her shoulder and steady himself.  
All of a sudden, Nanna's photoreceptors winked off and the soft whirring of her internal circuitry died away.  
Ben prised himself out of her arms and landed with a soft _thud_ on the floor, smirking evilly.  
"Piece a' cake!" he muttered to himself, dusting off his hands.  
"Even Threepio's power switch is at the base of his skull and I figured out how to turn_ him _ off _ages _ ago!"  
He turned around and sauntered towards the door, hands stuffed into his pockets.  
Oh Nanna had been right about one thing atleast. We're gonna have a_ lot_ of fun!

_**[ A/N: Written in response to GravityNeko's Fleeting Moments: His First Mission. Set a bit before DNT: The Joiner King.**_  
_**GN, you really shouldn't give me naughty ideas! ;P ]**_


	47. Loss

**Loss**

_**[ A/N: I realize this isn't exactly a Skywalker family drabble, but maybe you could consider it extended family? It's my first drabble featuring my favourite OC's, Dav and Che Fel. ]**_

"He should never have to know the pain we have known too well, Han."  
General Baron Soontir Fel's voice was reflective, but grave as he stood in front of the air-speeder in his characteristic pose of rigid attention, his hands clasped behind his back.

Han Solo lounged against the speeder himself, but with the measure of wariness in his posture which he had not been able to discard around the Baron even years after his daughter had married into the Fel family. He followed Soontir's gaze out to where their little twin grandsons were engaged in a spirited game of grav-ball with their father. Jagged Fel was laughing as he wrestled the ball away from them playfully and held it beyond their reach.

Han felt his chest constrict painfully at Soontir's words. He knew only too well the pain he was referring to. The loss of your own child.

Baron Soontir Fel, now Syndic within the Chiss Ascendancy held his bearing ramrod straight with his hauteur of old, but his hair had become iron-grey now, streaked liberally with white, and his face showed the lines of the very sorrows he was talking about. It had been many years now, but it was at moments like these that Han felt he could see through to the vulnerability of the man within, and the blame he held for himself for sending three of his six children, his two eldest sons Davin and Chak, and daughter, Cherith, to their deaths in combat. It was something he knew he would never have had the will to do himself.  
And yet, Han had also lost both his sons, Anakin and Jacen. One had died a hero, the other, a villain, a Sith Lord who had murdered his aunt, tortured his cousin and brought grief to many millions. All in the name of bringing peace to the galaxy for future generations.

"We've got you, Daddy!"  
The high-pitched triumphant shrieks of Davin and Cherian Fel, floated over the air to the two men who watched their identical twin grandsons chase and tackle their father enthusiastically to the ground and wrest the ball away from him. Han couldn't help but grin at the boys antics, but then found himself wondering, _Had Jacen been right then? Had all that pain and war and tragedy been worth it just for this? For them?_  
He shook the doubts out immediately. Jacen's war had ripped not just one, but two families to shreds, robbed a son of his mother, a husband of his wife, turned a sister against her brother and pitted him and Leia against their own son.  
_No. It had been senseless and downright wrong._They were just lucky to have been able to survive and carry on as they had.

Han watched an unconsciously affectionate smile steal over Soontir Fel's features and smirked to himself, turning away to try and hide it from his counterpart. But the former Imperial General caught on to the ruse immediately.  
"What are you smirking about, Solo?"  
Han didn't bother to hide it this time.  
"You! Who'd've ever thought you to be the doting grandfather, eh?"  
Soontir shifted uneasily on his feet, and his voice was gruff as he said, "Jagged has never succeeded in instilling any discipline in those boys."  
Han drew himself up in mock indignance.  
"Nor will he while_ I'm_ alive! Those two are going to have a childhood and enjoy it! Which is more than either of us can say for our kids."  
Something in Soontir Fel's eyes dimmed at his words and this time it was his turn to look away in haste.

Han wasn't sorry that his words had hit home. He was very proud of the strict but loving father Jag had turned out to be.  
_Whatever I did wrong with Anakin and Jacen and whatever Soontir did to his own lot, that kid's got a lot more sense being different. He won't lose his boys like we lost ours._  
He knew without a shred of doubt that as long as either he or Soontir had a breath left in their bodies, they would never let that happen.  
_It's the least we can do. For the future._


	48. Jam

**Jam**

"Aww c'mon, 'Sella! I need you here!"  
"I told you I'd be busy tonight, Valin. Sorry."  
"It's only a stupid date! You can get another one anytime! But this sort of inspiration isn't going to strike me twice."  
Jysella Horn laughed in her brother's scowling face as she twirled with a flick of her lustrous brown hair.  
"I'm surprised it's bothered to strike you once! I'm sure inspiration has better things to do too! See ya later, rockstar."  
And with that she traipsed out the door, leaving Valin shaking his head in her wake.

But an instant later, she was back, this time dragging a surprise visitor in alongwith her.  
"Hey, Val. Looks like you left your tail outside."  
Valin was surprised to see her holding young Ben Skywalker by the ear.  
"Ow! Leggo me, Jys!" he complained, wrenching away from her grasp and standing up straight.  
"He was standing outside, eavesdropping."  
Valin's surprise only increased.  
"Ben? Is this true?" he asked.  
Ben looked up at him guiltily while flashing a scowl in Jysella's direction who pursed her lips at him.  
"Well, you two can sort it out between yourselves. I'm getting late."

The two boys looked at each other. Slowly, a crease formed between Valin's brows.  
"Ben, what're you doing here? Shouldn't you be at home, or in a class,a or with your parents?"  
The young boy shrugged.  
"I like listening to you play."  
Valin's eyebrows rose.  
"You do?"  
Ben looked shy, trailing a toe along the floor.  
"Yeah... I wish I could play like you."  
Valin was dumb-founded.  
"Ben? Would you like to learn how to play?"  
Startled blue eyes found his own hazel ones.  
"Y-You'd let me...?"  
"I could teach you, if you want."

The boy's face lit up in an enthusiastic smile that Valin found was infectious and he nodded enthusiastically.  
Valin beckoned him forward and handed him his instrument. Ben accepted it with an attitude akin to reverence.  
"Now this is a chordokeylo, ok Ben? It's actually the best thing to learn on because after playing this, you'll be able to adapt yourself to many other instruments as well."  
Ben absorbed this teaching with a childish gravity.  
"Valin? Why were you asking Jysella to stay back just now? What does she play?"  
Valin smiled ruefully.  
"Sella's a decent enough bass player and I need a bassline to help me keep the rhythm when I'm composing a new song."  
"Can I help you with that maybe?" Ben's voice was hopeful.  
Valin regarded the earnest face before him thoughtfully.  
"Hmmmm. You're really serious about wanting to play music, Ben?"  
He affirmed with a vigorous nod once again.  
Valin grinned.  
"Well, then, how good are you at banging on tables, kid? I've been looking for a drummer. If you're up for it, we could scrounge up some basic lessons off the HoloNet..."

_**[ And the rest, as they say, is history! Well, atleast my AU history!]**_


	49. Best Friends

**Best Friends**

"All right. Where is he?"  
"How can you assume that I would know where he is?"  
"You always know where he is!"  
"Do you see him here?"  
"Valin!"  
"Dad. He'll turn up when he wants to be found. But if you want, knock yourself out hunting."

Jedi Master Corran Horn let out an exasperated huff.  
"I know you're fond of him, Valin. But shielding him when he's bunking classes is not going to help him."  
"Look, Dad, he's not here, ok? If I knew where he was, don't you think I'd tell you?!"  
Corran speared him with a glance that still seemed highly suspicious even though Valin had put on an extremely well-rehearsed look of innocence.  
"Well...I'm still watching, mind!"

It was only a few minutes after the Jedi Master had left, that a tousled little red head poked itself out of the chute hatch leading to the chamber's exhaust vents.  
"Is he gone?"  
Valin didn't so much as glance up from the datapad he was flicking through.  
"You're gonna get caught one of these days, you know," he commented dryly.  
"And from personal experience, my dad can have an evil sense of humour when it comes to punishments."  
Young Ben Skywalker flashed him a grin that was pure Han Solo.  
"Well, he hasn't caught me yet, has he?"  
"All I'm saying is think before you push your luck too far."  
"'S'ok Val. I know enough hiding places by now. I hafta practically live here, ya know."  
Valin glanced at the boy ruefully.  
"You might just die here, ya know."  
The rogueish grin remained exactly where it was, not affected in the least.  
"Aw, you wouldn't let that happen, wouldja?"  
"And why not? Why should I risk my skin to save your already doomed ass?"  
"Cause you're my best friend, Valin. Best friends don't sell each other out, do they?"  
Valin's eyes narrowed and he set the datapad aside.  
"All right, you little rat. What've you got? You can't bluff to save your life!"  
"I've got nothing!"  
Ben's protestations of innocence weren't likely to fool anyone.  
"Actually...I'd be more worried about what you've got..."  
Valin half rose out of his seat.  
"And what exactly might that be?"  
Ben carefully edged towards the door.  
"Weeeell...," he began, looking more devilish than ever, "I know exactly where you keep that stack of holozines I'm not supposed to see and I'm sure your dad would like to know what you do with them. Or even... Jysella-!"

A menacing growl erupted from Valin's throat as he clambered to his feet, but the little scamp had already disappeared. It looked like it was going to be another long chase through the Jedi Temple.

_**[ A/N: Kinda taken from a line in my previous drabble, Problem. ]**_


	50. Fan

_**[ The silver jubilee drabble! Seriously never thought I'd make it this far! But what can I say? I'm hooked!]**_

**Fan**

_"What?!"_ exclaimed Major Wes Janson, slamming down the can of lomin ale he had been drinking from on the crate on which his booted feet had been lifted just a second before.  
"What do you mean what does the inside of the Gikosphere look like, boy?!"

Young Ben Skywalker looked at him with wide startled eyes, unaware of exactly what he'd said wrong.  
"I-I've never been there, Uncle Wes..."

_"Never been there?!"_ Wes spluttered, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets.  
"You mean you've never been to pay homage at the hallowed home ground of the Coruscant Fire?! You some sort of an infidel, boy?" he growled, his eyes suddenly narrowing to dangerous slits.

Ben chuckled nervously.  
"Uh... n-no...?"

Major Derek "Hobbie" Klivian emitted a loud snort.  
"Oh please, Janson! Don't be so melodramatic! You'll scare off Loran, putting up such stiff competition! You hate the Fire!"

"Only when they beat the Taanabian Stagas," Wes pointed out, "Otherwise I think they're a fair team."

Ben and Hobbie exchanged a smirk.  
"So have you ever been to the Stagas stadium on Taanab?" Ben asked.

Wes's eyes glazed over.  
"Ah, have I ever been to the 'Stag-ium'! Kid, when I was a kid, every summer we would hold our inter-school bolo-ball championship finals inside the Stag-ium and the winner would get a visit inside the Stagas dressing room! Once, I even met the great Jipoly Numifolis of Coruscant! He was the chief guest at the finals when a team comprising yours truly soundly thumped our rival school **6-2 **at full time!"

Wes wiped away an imaginary tear.  
"Those were the days! When a tackle was a real tackle and you were likely to get your nose bashed in, not like now, when you get red-carded for batting at someone's shirt!"

Hobbie and Ben were already doubled over in silent laughter.

Wes leaned forward and placed a hand on Ben's shoulder a steely look of determination entering his eye.  
"That's it. Kid, you're coming with me next weekend. Coruscant Fire is up against Fondor Sporting Club at home. Leave the tickets up to me."

The young boy's jaw dropped and Wes was immediately assaulted by the whoops and hugs of an enthusiastic 10-yr old fan.

* * *

A frown slowly creased Jacen Solo's forehead as his young cousin bounded into his apartment, where he was immersed in meditation, with a huge grin gracing his face and dressed in an oversize violently orange jersey that bore the legend,**_ "FIRE!''_**

"Where were you?" he asked.  
Ben had been due to meet him more than two hours ago.

The grin on the young boy's face only seemed to widen.  
"Uncle Wes took me to the Fire's game at the Gikosphere! Jacen, you shoulda been there! It was _astral !_ There were so many_ people!_ And the noise and the lights! And the game was_ awesome!_ We were tied 2-2, but then this one player went down in a really nasty tackle, and we got a penalty in extra-time and we_ scored! _We were all jumping in the stands the whole time! It was rad!" he gave a contented sigh.

Jacen couldn't help but laugh at Ben's over-enthusiastic joy and reached over to muss up his hair.  
"Wes buy you that jersey?" he indicated with his head.

Ben nodded vigorously.  
"So I don't suppose you'll be inclined to change out of it anytime soon, huh?"

"Nope," Ben asserted, vehemently.  
"I'm gonna wear it _everywhere_! To the Temple, to class, to bed-"

"Alright! I get it, I get it!" Jacen laughed, "You're going to wear it until your mother peels it off your back!"

**_[ A/N:" Writing normal Jacen nowadays breaks my heart... :( *sigh* ]_**


	51. Smile

**Smile**

It was the smile Leia knew Luke's heart broke to see.

It was the same smile she had seen on different people at different times: on Han, in moments he had thought he was alone, caressing the hull of the_ Falcon_; on Jaina, the day she had received her first flight suit; on Anakin, when he had successfully rebuilt a piece of machinery from its scattered parts; on Jacen, in his times feeding or playing with his collection of animals; on Mara, practicing with her favourite blaster and vibroblade; on Luke himself, after coming in hot from a thrilling flight in his X-Wing.

It was the smile of passion and happiness, of success in doing what one loved more than anything.

That was the smile she could see on her nephew's face, talking enthusiastically with Valin Horn, in that grubby old room of the Temple they'd converted into their jamming studio, his foot still unconsciously tapping out a rhythm on the floor as he idly twirled a drumstick in his fingers. And the smile would broaden to twice its size when he would play, the drums or any other instrument for that matter, or listen to a favourite tune, or dance like it was what he had been born to do, or hit the high notes in perfect harmony.

It was the smile she had never seen on his face in the lightsaber sparring arena, or the meditation hall, the Jedi Archives or even in the cafeteria! It wasn't that he wasn't a dedicated and enthusiastic Jedi. It was just that music was his passion and would always continue to be. He had given up the hopes of becoming a professional musician for the sake of the Order, but Leia knew he would _die_ if he had to give up music altogether!

Which is why she knew Luke was wrong to feel dismayed whenever he witnessed his son's passion for music. At moments like these, his Force presence would shine like a miniature sun. No, he should be happy that there was still something in the galaxy which could make his son smile like that.


	52. Stud

**Stud**

It was sometime during the meeting taking place in the Grand Master's chambers that everyone suddenly fell silent. Ben Skywalker, in the midst of a long, languorous stretch, rocking his chair back on its legs, stopped as if embarrassingly caught in the act.  
"What?" he queried defensively, his face flushing.

His father was staring at him in shock and Jaina was furiously trying to stifle an amused snort. His aunt's face was curiously unreadable, but Ben had a feeling she wasn't entirely pleased.

_Geez!_ he wondered, _Since when did a simple stretch become a breach of protocol around here?_

But the most horrified face among them all was Jag's. He stepped forward slowly, his gaze fixed on his brother-in-law. Ben began to feel distinctly uncomfortable.  
"Uhhh...guys? What's going on? I gotta tell you, I'm getting kinda freaked out now."

"Ben, what in the world is that?"  
His father's voice was incredulous.

Jag had stopped just about five inches from Ben and was staring, mouth agape, at a point just beyond his right eye.

Ben shrank back in his seat.  
"What?" he asked again, this time with very real annoyance.

"It- it's a-a..._ stud!_"  
Jag's voice was almost comically horror-struck.  
"Why would you _do_ something like that, Ben? Why would you _defile_ yourself?!"

Ben's hand had shot up to touch his right ear self-conscioously where a diamond stud, glinting in the sunlight streaming in through the large windows, was what had actually caught everybody's attention.

"When did you get that?"  
Luke Skywalker's voice was frigid and thin.

Ben attempted a shaky lop-sided grin.  
"Uhhh... yesterday."

"Why?"

"I think it's cool."

"Cool?"

"Uhh...yeah?"

"It's ridiculous and obscene. And it does not befit a Jedi Knight. I want you to get rid of it."

_"What?!"_

"I said that I want you to get rid of it. Consider that an order, Jedi Skywalker."  
His father's voice brooked absolutely no dissent.

With surprising restraint, Ben kept his mouth shut, scheduling the blow-up argument for when they got back home, but lapsed into a stubborn sulk at the moment and settling for scowling and shoving Jag out of his face.

* * *

The meeting over, Ben and his father were walking down the halls, the tension between them almost palpable. A couple of Jedi Knights approached them from the opposite end of the corridor, chatting amongst themselves. One of them was Seha Dorvald.

Ben stood aside to let them pass, flashing them a grin. They smiled back and bowed to the Grand Master.

Ben was about to resume his course with his father, when-  
"Ben?"  
He turned to face Seha.  
"Yeah?"  
She was looking at him appraisingly.  
"Cool stud."  
Ben's grin was as cocky as it was possible to be.  
"Thanks!"

They resumed their walk out, but had not got more than five steps when Ben interjected.  
"Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"No."  
He enunciated this very clearly.

Luke Skywalker sighed. It was a tone he had heard many times from Mara before. Further argument would be futile. He could recognize defeat when he heard it.

_**A/N: GravityNeko writes tattoos, I write the next worst thing... a piercing ;P !**_


	53. Anniversary

**Anniversary**

"Allana, do you know where Ben is? I can't find him anywhere and he seems to have shut himself off from the Force."

Allana Djo Solo looked up from her datapad, a perplexed expression on her face.  
"You don't know where he is?"

Luke Skywalker shook his head, his aging features slightly worried.

Allana continued to look at him strangely, but finding his puzzlement to be genuine, stood up.  
"Come with me, then. I think you should see something."

Allana strode into the hangars of the Fountain Palace, her great-uncle in tow, and selected a small shuttle out of the royal family's fleet, waving aside all her insistent guards and escorts, opting instead to pilot herself.

"Allana, where are we going?" Luke asked, his confusion growing with every passing second. The Hapan _Chume'da_ was guarding her own feelings extremely well and the Grand Master could glean no clue from her, either verbally or through the Force.  
"You'll see," the young princess smiled enigmatically.

* * *

The flight was short, barely half an hour, and Luke frowned feeling a sudden pain well in his heart when he finally deduced their destination.

_Kavan._  
_Why today, of all days? Why on the very day, ten years ago, that he had had his beloved wife torn so brutally from him?_

Allana set the shuttle down beside a gently sloping hillside, then proceeded to lead the way down it, picking her way nimbly down to the dark opening of what looked like a cavern.

Luke followed more slowly, feeling a cold hand of dread slowly squeezing upon his heart.

Allana stood waiting for him at the mouth of the tunnel and, when he approached, nodded him towards the inside.  
"He comes here every year on this day."

Luke ventured in a few steps, Allana making no attempt to follow, content to stand outside, her hands stuffed inside her jumpsuit pockets, then froze. Up ahead, he could make out a shadow sitting hunched and silent beside the flickering light of a dim glow-lamp. Suddenly, the atmosphere inside the tunnel felt extremely suffocating to Luke and he found his throat threatening to close up and inadvertent tears welling up in his eyes. Hurriedly he brushed his sleeve across his eyes, turned and stumbled his way back. He had seen enough.

Allana regarded him with sympathy as Luke sat down upon a small boulder on the hillside. He didn't even seem to register her presence any more.

"He comes here every year?"  
Luke's voice sounded broken.

Allana came slowly forward and rested a comforting hand on her great-uncle's shoulder.  
"Yes. That's why I was surprised you didn't know."

Luke shook his head, unable to finally prevent two tears from rolling down his cheeks.  
"I- I'm never in much of a state to notice much on- on this day. Just as I hadn't been ten years ago."

Allana was surprised to hear a note of bitter self-reproach in his voice.  
"He- he spent that night alone... here,with-with her body. And- and I wasn't even there for him when he probably needed me the most. I can't imagine what he must have been thinking..."

Allana bit her lip, her heart melting with sympathy for her bereaved cousin and his father.  
"Why don't you go in there and join him, Great-Uncle? He might welcome your company. He always seems so alone on this day..."

Luke looked towards the tunnel entrance, sorrow and helplessness stabbing his heart like a vibroblade.  
"No, 'Lana. He needs to be here alone today, just like he was all those years ago. This is his time with Mom."


	54. Intervention

_**[A/N: After a long time, a drabble set post- Myri and Me. Featuring my original character from that story.]**_

**Intervention**

Ben Skywalker let himself into an empty apartment and frowned in surprise at the odd silence.  
_Hadn't Myri come home yet?_  
And then he saw it, the note lying on the dinner table:  
_Guess who got busted for possession of spice and needs to be bailed out. I'll be at HQ if you need me._  
Ben grinned wryly to himself and shook his head.  
Fletcher Dyce would never learn.

He was still staggering a bit when they brought him home and let him collapse onto the couch. Ben had a feeling Myri hadn't exactly gone out of her way to spare him some of the rough treatment at the hands of CSF's Narcotics Division. Husband and wife stood looking down on their disoriented friend, struggling to find his bearings.

"Was he raided?"  
"Nah. But you'll never guess how he got caught."  
Ben raised his eyebrows in query. Myri gave him a snide smirk.  
"He was actually arrested for taking a leak on the side wall of the Jedi Temple."  
Ben's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He looked back at Fletch, suddenly livid.  
His wife's hand on his arm restrained him from landing a punch there and then on the groggy Corellian.  
A muscle twitched in his jaw and he balled his fists at his sides.  
"Fine. But don't try and stop me from giving him a piece of my mind in the morning."  
Myri had no such intention. In fact, she had an even better idea.

* * *

Fletch woke up in the middle of the afternoon and was wondering when his apartment had magically cleaned itself and started smelling so nice when the door opened and Myri's head poked in.  
"Oh good. You're up. Get dressed and come on out. Everybody's waiting."  
_Everybody?!_  
Somehow Fletch had a bad feeling about this.

Allana Djo Solo, Jedi Knight and Hapan _Chume'da_, tapped her foot irritatedly on the floor as she perched upon the armrest of the living room couch. A stormy frown graced her otherwise perfect brows and it was not helped by the fact that her cousin and former Master was lounging lazily on the couch, arms folded behind his head, smirking at her.  
"If he's not awake yet, Myri should upturn a bucket of cold water on his head! That'd serve him right!"  
Ben's smirk grew wider.  
"Control your feelings, my former Padawan. You're treading dangerously close to the Dark Side! Remember, a Jedi seeks not retribution but attempts to forgive..."  
Allana glared darkly at him.  
"Yeah right,_ Master_! You're an expert in that area, aren't you?"  
It was at this moment that Myri walked back in and jabbed her husband sharply in the stomach to get him to remove his legs so that she might have some space to sit.  
"Can it, you two. He's up, I checked. Save it for the speeches."

Fletcher Dyce entered the Skywalkers' living room, tugging on a shirt, to find himself faced with three extremely displeased faces and a home-made banner proclaiming ' Intervention'.  
Internally, he groaned and resisted the urge to slap a hand to his face. He had been afraid it might come to this.  
"Look, you guys-" he tried to begin.  
"Sit", he was commanded instead, by two extremely imperious female voices.  
He sat.

Allana stood up, her posture haughty and regal.  
"Fletch," she stated, "You know you've only brought this upon yourself. The spice stops here and it stops now. You have no excuses for this kind of behaviour. You have a job, enough money to buy yourself an occasional drink and friends who care enough about you to bust your ass out of the crack-lock and stage an intervention!"  
Her grey eyes were filled with such a righteous fury that Fletch felt a sudden onrush of affection for her.  
_She was right. She cared. They all cared!_  
He fought the urge to smile and instead maintained a suitably grave and chastened expression.

Myri spoke up next.  
"Fletch, you know you can learn this the easy way, or the hard way, but learn it you will. We thought we'd give you the benefit of the doubt and go easy on you at first. You keep tripping on the spice, and one day you're gonna go on a trip from which you won't come back. And whether you realize it or not, no one in this room wants to see that happen. Now, we're all here to help you through this. You're not alone. You need professional help, or you need rehab, we'll take care of it. But I get another call like the one I got yesterday, and I might just let Inspector Girdun go the whole hog on you next time. Let me remind you, it's not pretty."

Fletch winced at the memory of the tough, foul-mouthed Inspector in the CSF Narco. Div. who had been taking whatever frustrations he had in his life out on his ass until Myri had arrived.

"So here's the deal, you go straight from now on, and we'll forget this ever happened. Or else..." Myri paused for dramatic effect.  
"I'm either going to personally hand you over to Girdun...or send you back to your mother."  
Fletch's eyes widened in shock and he stared at Myri with naked horror playing over his features.  
"You wouldn't!" he breathed, but the icy glint in her eyes assured him all too well otherwise.

He looked pleadingly at Ben who simply shrugged.  
"If I were you, I'd do as the ladies told me to, mate. I couldn't have put it better than them myself. But I've got just one more little point to add, and for me, it's the absolute clincher..."  
He leaned forward conspiratorially and putting his hand against his mouth, he mock-whispered,  
"It affects yer 'performance', man! Know what I mean? There's like_ research_ that proves it! Ain't worth it, far's I'm concerned," he concluded, shaking his head sagaciously.  
Both women looked at them with identical looks of disgust.  
"Well!" Myri let out a breath, "I suppose if that won't convince you, nothing will! But now for lunch. I suppose everyone's hungry after such straight-talking!"

She headed purposefully towards the kitchen, Allana jumping off her perch and following to help out. Fletch edged closer to Ben, clearing his throat awkwardly.  
"I-uh, just wanted to say thanks, mate. Them specially," he nodded in the direction of the kitchen where the girls had disappeared.  
"Thanks for taking the trouble. I'll- I'll keep it in mind, I promise. That's it. No more spice for me. I'm comin' clean. From tomorrow, yer gonna see a new Fletcher D. Dyce!"  
Ben still looked at him a little ruefully though and Fletch frowned.  
"What?"  
"The Jedi Temple, man? _Really?!_ Out of all the blank walls in Coruscant, you had to piss on the_ Temple?!_ Not cool, man. I mean, I work there, ya know!"  
Fletch looked dumb-struck.  
"Wait, _what?_! They arrested me for_ public nuisance?_! I thought they'd found my stash!"  
Ben sighed.  
"Yeah, they found your stash _after_ they took you in for desecration of public property!"  
Fletch's face crumpled and he emitted a loud groan.  
"Aw man! I'm never gonna live this down, am I?"  
Ben's expression slowly grew thoughtful and he ponderously stroked his chin.  
"You know, now that you mention it... No, I don't believe you will!"


	55. Girlfriend

**Girlfriend**

_**[ A/N: Featuring one of my OCs from Myri and Me, Gwen Celchu (daughter of Tycho and Winter Celchu). This also starts yet another of those mini-series where I will be exploring a similar situation from three points of view, namely, those of Ben's three most prominent romantic interests. All set firmly in my AU-verse as delineated in Myri and Me.]**_

_Click._

Nothing.

_Click._

Still nothing.

Ben Skywalker looked down at his datapad, wih an annoyed frown, convinced there had to be something wrong with its receptivity. His message indicator was silent and he had sent his last text almost seven minutes ago!

His eyes strayed outside, gazing unfocussed and far away, while his foot tapped out an impatient staccato rhythm on the floor.

"...on your mind?"  
Ben's attention was brought back to the present by a voice near his ear sounding none too amused.

He glanced up into brilliant green eyes which seemed to bore right through him.

Jedi Master Corran Horn stood before him, his arms folded across his chest as though he were waiting for a reply. Ben, of course, had no idea what had been asked.

"As you say, Master," he responded, distractedly.

Corran gave a thin-lipped smile.  
"Very well, then. It's decided. Since Jedi Skywalker has so kindly agreed to volunteer his services, _he_ will be piloting the shuttle on the supply run to Shedu Maad. Now, onto other-"

"Wait, _what?!_" Ben spluttered incredulously, " Hey, hold on a minute, Master Horn! I'm not ferrying anything anywhere! I just got back from a mission and have been specifically designated some down time!"

Corran Horn smirked evilly at the young Jedi's discomfiture.  
"Which is why we are all _so_ grateful to you for agreeing to sacrifice your 'precious' down time to run the Council's errands!"

Somewhere to his left, Doran Sarkin-Tainer snickered.

"Next time, Skywalker," the Jedi Master growled, "I'd prefer it if your attention was directed to me rather than to your text messaging. Dismissed!"

* * *

Ben was in a foul mood and was consequently none too politely barking out orders at the service droids in the Jedi Temple hangars and slamming the hatches of the shuttle he was to take none too gently when he was caught off-guard by a voice for the second time that day.

"Hey, mister. Aren't you supposed to be on a date with me somewhere?"  
She was wearing a softly flowing pant suit, typically Alderaanian in style and matching the delicate honey colour of her eyes. She looked, as always, fresh as a flower, in stark contrast to the griminess gracing her boyfriend's hands and all-purpose coveralls.

Ben's heart had jumped at the sight of her, but realizing his predicament, it sank just as swiftly.

"Gwen!" he exclaimed, striding towards her, but stopping abruptly short of greeting her with a hug.  
"Sorry," he muttered the apology sheepishly, "I don't want to get flight grease all over you."

Gwen uttered a soft laugh, shaking her head, her eyes twinkling as she stepped forward.  
"You're getting more scruffy-looking every day, Ben," she teased, running her fingers through his hair.

A tingle coursed up the young man's back at her touch and he stuffed his hands firmly in his pockets and leaned over for a kiss.  
But she broke it off far too soon for his liking and stepped back with a small frown.

"Wait, Ben. What are you doing prepping a shuttle? You said you'd scheduled some down time for us to spend together."

Ben winced.  
"I-uh... Well, it's actually your fault! You weren't replying to my texts! And Master Horn caught me out texting at a de-briefing."  
Ben's voice trailed away into a mumble at the end and he looked away.

Gwen planted her hands on her hips and glared at him extremely attractively.  
"My fault, huh?"

Ben stood his ground.  
"Yeah."

"And Master Horn punished you for it?"

"Yeah. It's a sentence of death by boredom. I have to take this shuttle on a supply run to the Shedu Maad base. Alone."

Gwen's face fell.  
"Now?"

Ben looked apologetic.  
"Yeah, kinda. Hey, I'm really sorry. Can I maybe make this up to you when I get back?"

"Why are you apologizing? Didn't you just say it was _my _fault?"

Ben blushed and flashed her a lop-sided grin.

Gwen pressed up against him, prising his hands from his pockets and entwining her fingers with his. Ben tried to retract, but she didn't let him.  
"Hey, it's just flight grease. My dad's a pilot too, you know. I've seen enough of it in my lifetime."

"It'll get your nice clothes all dirty," Ben mumbled.

Gwen shrugged.  
"That's the laundry droid's problem."

She looked into his eyes with a lively sparkle in her own.  
"Say, since it's my fault you got punished, what would you say if I agreed to share the punishment with you?"

Ben looked at her in puzzlement.

"I mean," she enunciated slowly, after a brief pause, "What if I came along with you on this...supply run? Then it could just be you and me...alone."

Her fingers teased the front of his coveralls.

Ben's eyes widened and a slow smile began to dawn on his face. He grabbed her hands and pulled her to himself and she laughed, meeting his gaze and biting her lip shyly.

His heart drummed out a celebratory rhythm in his chest and his insides became suffused with a spreading warmth. He nibbled at her neck until she wriggled and swatted him away.  
"Stars, Gwen. You are the best girlfriend _ ever!_"


	56. Affair

**_[A/N: In the last one we saw the 'girlfriend', now we see the wife! Post Myri and Me.]_**

**Affair**

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were having an affair behind my back, what with the way you've started sneaking around these days."

Ben Skywalker looked up from the cargo bay in surprise at the dry remark, to see his wife leaning against the hatchway, their two-year old son in tow.

He crossed over to them swiftly, his brow creasing in mock chagrin.  
"Not in front of the kid, Eight!"

Little Tyrion Skywalker swivelled his gaze from one of his parents to the other, not understanding all that was said in their playfully adversarial exchange.

His father's hand came to rest on top of his dark blonde head.  
"But you know better, huh?"

Myri Antilles-Skywalker heaved a dramatic sigh.  
"I consciously married into the Jedi Order. What else could I have expected? Besides," she gave a casual shrug, "It's not like you'd have the guts to, anyway."

Ben gave her an exasperated look.  
"Oh sure. Discredit me in front of my son. It's not like he listens to me anyway!"

Myri raised an eyebrow.  
"Did you listen to _your _dad when you were two?!"

"I was still getting used to _having _a dad when I was two, so no."

Myri raised her palms as if it was self-explanatory.

"Don't listen to your mum, son. She'll give you all the wrong ideas about me."

"Daddy!"

Ty stretched his arms entreatingly towards his father. Ben caved in and picked him up, setting him on his strong shoulders. He went back to work packing and stowing cartons of provisions, balancing his son precariously.

Ty giggled and grabbed a fistful of his hair.  
"Ow, kid! Don't make me lose my hair just yet! Otherwise it's your mother I'll have to worry about sneaking off and having affairs!"

Myri hovered just behind, keeping a wary eye on her all-too excited little son.  
"Now look who's giving who the wrong ideas! I didn't marry you for your _hair_, you know."

"C'mon, admit it. I was the most attractive redhead you knew!"

Myri sighed and rolled her eyes.

"You were the _only _ redhead I knew. That's why I called you _Red!_"

She came forward and plucked her son off her husband's shoulders. Ty didn't seem at all concerted, dashing off with a squeal of glee to explore the interiors of the _Skycrawler._

Ben looked after his retreat with concern.  
"He better not get himself electrocuted back there", he muttered to himself, worriedly.

Myri stepped up to him and with an uncharacteristically fond look, turned his chin towards herself.  
"Does it worry you because he takes so much after his father?"

Ben gave her a shrug and a half-smile.  
"Maybe. I hate to admit it, but maybe Dad was right. This is my repentance for the hell I put _my _ parents through when _I _was his age!"

"Don't go."

The softness in the statement made Ben turn to his wife with a frown.  
"What?"

Myri looked down at the deck.  
"I hate that you keep having to leave like this."

Ben closed the distance between them with a stride and took her hands in his, his eyes deep wells of sorrowful apology.  
"Eight... You know-"

"Yeah, I know, I know," Myri waved him off, still not willing to meet his ardent gaze.

"I knew what I was signing up for when I married you, Red."

"Then you know why I have to go."

"The Jedi need you. The universe needs you."

Ben smiled affectionately.

Myri looked up at him, irrational anger sparking in her eyes.  
"What about when _I _need you? When Ty needs you? How come the galaxy can't take care of its own problems for a change?"

"I'll come back, I promise."

"Someday you won't."

Ben heaved a sigh.  
"Eight, I never make you promises I can't keep. Maybe someday I won't. I can't guarantee that. But I will not let it be this day. Hey," This time he turned her chin up to meet him, "I'd ask you to come along, but..."

"I have my job and Ty is too small."

Her husband grinned.  
"You're always right, my love."

She glared at him.  
"Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"So you're going to fight with me before I take off?" he teased playfully, "I remember a time you used to say goodbye with a kiss instead. I think I liked those times better!"

Myri laid a finger on his lips.  
"I'm not going to say goodbye. This is _not _goodbye."

Ben rested his forehead against hers so that both sets of blue eyes locked.  
"I'd still like that kiss though."

Myri gazed deep into his strong and reassuring eyes for a moment more, drawing strength from them, then reached up on tiptoe and kissed him, putting in everything that she couldn't translate into words.

Ben drew back with a twinkle in his eyes.  
"Now that's how I remember it!"

Myri poked him in the chest with a sharp forefinger.  
"And you better remember that that's what you'll be missing out on if you ever decide to cheat on me!"

Ben raised two fingers in a cocky salute and winked,  
"Aye aye, m'lady!"  
Then he turned around to hunt for his son.


	57. Barriers

**Barriers**

Her training had taught her how to put up barriers within her mind so that no one would ever be able to break through to the place where she kept her heart.

But in the end, it didn't matter.

All it had taken was one look from those baby blue eyes and she had surrendered.

And in that instant, as she silently pledged her life to protect him, now her greatest treasure, she knew that she would never have any shield to protect her from the power and intensity of his love. A love she had never known before, but that now was the very core of her being.

Little Ben Skywalker had looked into his mother's eyes for the very first time, and managed to break all her barriers down.


	58. Innocence

**Innocence**

It was strange to think that my father lost his innocence after me. But he had.

I had seen mine bleed away alongwith the life-blood of the first man who had died from a shot of my gun.

But his was finally lost the day we lost my Mom.

Something changed about him, and I had to think long and hard before I could finally pin it down.

That was the day he stopped believing that everyone could be saved.


	59. Parents

_**[ Aaaand 'Ripples' is back with a bang! Lots to post and I'm starting this week off with this one. Inspired by and dedicated to ShouldIGetOutAndPush Chapter 9 to whose wonderful drabbles collection (aptly titled 'Collection'!) set my head a-buzzing. Well, this is where I ran with it. Enjoy and review please!]**_

_**Vader**_

She had slipped away from the now rather raucous party, the fermented juice that passed for liquour among Ewoks having proven a bit too strong for her tastes. Or perhaps it was the sudden release of tension from the blowing of the Second Death Star that was making her feel this light-headed. Whatever it was, Leia needed to get away from the camp-fire festivities and had picked the moment when a drunken Chewie was reeling and roaring, forcing Han to attempt to calm him down, to get some time to herself for a while.

Almost unbidden, her steps took her near a secluded clearing within the forest and pushing aside a low hanging branch, she stood face to face with a still slightly smoking mound of black ashes. An instantaneous wave of dread, anger and grief crashed over her. She didn't need to be told what this place was. The charred frame of his face-mask was still visible in one corner of the pile.

"He left a message for you, you know."

_Luke._  
Leia pressed her eyes shut and willed herself to be calm.

"He came back, at the end. Wanted to look on me with his own eyes. He asked me to tell you I had been right. There still had been some good left in Anakin Skywalker. Our father."

"No."

The word hissed out before she could stop it. She spun on her heel to confront her brother, clenching her fists tightly to her sides.

"_Your_ father. Don't you ever call him that. He was never mine and he never will be. Bail Organa was _my _ father. _He _killed my father."

Luke was slightly alarmed at the venom in his twin sister's face and tone.  
"Leia, but..."

"All his fatherly love came out for you, huh? What about when it was me who was screaming under his torture on the first Death Star? Where was his 'fatherliness' then? Where was it when they blew my home planet, my whole life to pieces in front of my face? He didn't even let me fall to my knees and mourn. What about when he ripped Han away in Cloud City? Without even allowing us to finish a last kiss... "

She turned away, unwilling to let Luke see the bitter tears welling up in her eyes.

"He was never a father to me. And I will never accept him as such. Blood isn't the only thing that matters, Luke. It was Bail Organa of Alderaan who raised me, loved me, taught me... died for me. Not Anakin Skywalker of Tatooine. No, Luke, he torments me now in death even as he had in life. There can be no redemption for him for that."

She shook her head slowly, her lip curling in contempt for the spirit of the recently departed.

"Leia," Luke's voice was soft, almost penitent, "You must learn to forgive him."

"I will do no such thing," she replied, determinedly, then flicked a glance towards him briefly.

"I don't know what passed between you an him at the end, Luke, that makes you so ready to forgive him. Wasn't he responsible for the deaths of your aunt and uncle as well? Once upon a time you used to swear you'd avenge them."

Luke looked at her in shock and Leia could see the old pain welling deep in his eyes. Part of her felt sorry for the unwarranted strike, but part of her didn't.  
_Anything to hurt the memory of Vader_, she told herself.

"You bear his name, Luke. I don't. And I never will. This day, I disown him. He never was my father. Bail Organa was my true father. And it is his name that I will bear to my own grave."

She held Luke's gaze for a moment more, then turned on her heel and left.

Luke stood there for a long time afterwards, conflicting images warring in his mind: of his father's face as he lay dying in his arms, his gentle smile as he re-appeared as a Force-ghost with his last memory of Uncle Owen's, creased with anxiety and doubt as he watched him leave the dinner table in a temper.

With a sudden pang of guilt, Luke remembered he'd never gotten to make it up to him again. He'd left his uncle angry and he'd died before he'd had a chance to apologize. His "father" had ensured that.

_Poor Uncle Owen._

He looked up at the clear sky speckled with stars above the Endor forest.

He'd been the first to die for him. And Aunt Beru. And Vader had been the one to give that particular execution order.

_Could Leia be right? Blood isn't the only thing that matters?_

Had Uncle Owen known at the end how much he had actually always loved and respected him, that he'd never wanted to disappoint him? Yet here he was today, the very thing Uncle Owen had always feared he would be: A Jedi Knight.

He looked at the charred heap in front of him and slowly kneaded his brow.  
Somehow, this whole forgiveness thing wasn't turning out to be quite as simple as he'd thought.

* * *

_**Jacen**_

"You couldn't get to sleep?"

Silently she shook her head.

"Nightmare?"

She rubbed her nose but didn't meet her eyes, then eventually gave a small nod.

Leia slid across the kitchen table from her unusually morose granddaughter. She had felt the turbulent disquiet in her Force aura, a swirling maelstrom of doubt, grief and fury. It had nudged her in her sleep, and then retreated. But she had known instantly what it was about.

"I know what it's like to hate your own father, too, sweetheart," she said softly.

Allana raised stricken grey eyes at the statement.

"I had a hard time of it, before I was finally ready to let it go."

Age had softened Leia Organa Solo's warm brown eyes, but Allana turned away, restless and fidgeting.

"He was your son," she mumbled, hesitantly, as though it were an explanation for her reservations.

"He was your father," her grandmother pointed out.  
"He owed a lot more responsibility to you than he did to us by then."

But Allana slowly shook her dark head, braids curled up for sleep, not entirely convinced. Then she heaved a sigh.

"Everytime I think I'm over it, I've moved on... it comes back to haunt me. _Why_, Grandma? _Why_ did he do what he did? How could he use _me _ to justify all- all of that?! Would it have _killed _him just to be a father to me?"

It tore at Leia's heart to see the naked agony in her granddaughter's expression, the helplessness in her plea.  
How many times had she lain awake in the night asking herself that same question?

_Why, Jacen? Why?_

She reached over for her hand instead.

"No...He was wrong. Very wrong. About a great many things. But he did love you, Allana. He loved you very much. And someday, when you finally find it in your heart to forgive him, you'll find that that's all that's left."

Her words had run out. She didn't know where they'd come from, or even if the young woman sitting opposite her would even understand what they meant, but for the moment, they were all she had to give. That and her unconditional love and support for as long as it took for her son's daughter to come to terms with his legacy.

* * *

_**Mara**_

He really was being impossible today.

"Ben! What's the matter with you? It's way past your bedtime! You'll never be up in time for lessons!"

"Lessons are boooring," he intoned in an irritating sing-song, zooming a toy speeder at top speed over the living room carpet.

It didn't help, in such circumstances, to have her brother-in-law smirking equally irritatingly on the couch beside her.

"What's so funny, Solo?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm just enjoying being the observer for a change."

"Keep observing some more and I might not leave you in a condition to observe very much again," Mara threatened in an undertone.

But this just made Han Solo's smirk grow even wider.

"C'mon, Jade! You were a smuggler once. Or atleast that's what you'd have us all believe."

Mara's eyes narrowed dangerously at him.

"What's the fastest way to get some busy-body to make life a whole lot easier for you?"

Mara's frown deepened, not least because she had no idea what Han was leading up to.

Han put his glass of whisky down on the caf table.  
"Bribery, Jade! You've gotta bribe the kid! How does Luke get him to fall asleep?"

"Well... he tells him a story sometimes..."

"Story?" a little voice piped up suddenly.  
"I wanna story, Mommy."

Ben came half-waddling, half-crawling over to where his mother and uncle were sitting.

"Daddy's the one with the stories, Ben. But since he's not going to be home tonight, you're going to have to be a big boy and do without them for a night, ok sweetums?"

Ben's chubby little face fell and he instinctively veered towards his uncle.  
"I wanna story!"

"Wrong move, Jade," Han muttered, reaching out to lift his nephew into his lap. He stood up, the little child dangling from his arms.

"A'right, buddy. How 'bout Uncle Han tells you one of his swashbuckling adventures, huh?"

Ben's head swerved in eager anticipation.

Han caught his sister-in-law's eye.  
"You're going to owe me big for this, Jade," he muttered, out of Ben's earshot.

Then he headed in towards the bedrooms.  
"Now this story is called the Smuggler and the Princess and it's all about how a dashing smuggler and his faithful sidekick travel across lightyears in the fastest ship in the galaxy to save a slightly stuck-up but not too bad looking a princess from an evil monster..."

His voice died away down the hall.

Her back was turned towards him, and she was staring out the giant transparisteel window when he returned.

Han frowned.  
"Mara? What's wrong?"

"Do you know why I never have any stories for my son?"  
Her voice was flat, devoid of any emotion.

Han hesitated. This had to be some sort of trick question. And the best way to deal with those was not to answer at all. He picked up his drink and waited.

She gave a small, unusually bitter laugh.  
"What would I tell him? Luke has all his childhood bedtime stories from what his aunt used to tell him. But me? Should I repeat Palpatine's drills to my Ben?"

She turned to face him then and Han was stunned to see the very real anguish beneath the sparks of anger in her eyes.

She walked back and resumed her seat on the couch, but this time her hands were clasped tight in front of her and her gaze was fixed somewhere very far away.

"Most times, I look at him, and I know what he needs me to do. But at times like these? I'm at a loss. It's still not easy for me to be a mother, Han. I- I don't even have a model I can follow!"

The admission hit him like a bolt in the gut. He came up to her and gently laid an arm across her hunched shoulders.

"You're a fantastic mother to Ben, Mara. Don't you doubt it for a second. And hey, you're forgetting what a mini disaster I was with my kids when they were born! And I got 'em in a twin pack!"

Mara attempted a weak smile.  
"You have your ways around the children, Solo. You always have. Leia calls you a natural."

Han looked surprised.  
"She does?"

"I... just wish I could have had a mother to talk to sometimes, when it comes to things regarding Ben. I mean, Leia's great, no offence, but..."

She shook her head sadly. Han heaved a sigh.

"Look, I know where you're coming from, Jade. Been there myself. Never knew my parents, never really wanted to. Until I was faced with kids of my own. Then I wished I could have had somebody layin' down a road for me to follow 'cause there's just sometimes they look you in the eyes and you have no idea what they're saying."

Mara was looking at Han curiously.

"But I knew for sure that I would never, ever want them going through anything like what I had to go through under Shrike, and you probably had it even worse, so..."

He shrugged.  
"You gotta do the best you can, I guess. And hope they'll forgive you for the rest. Atleast I had Dewlanna to mould some humanity into me," he finished with a grin more lop-sided than usual.

Mara smiled. She knew what it took for people like them to truly open up to each other and she was grateful to Solo for this rare glimpse into his past.

"Thanks, Han," she said, rising and squeezing his shoulder.

"Hey, that's _two _you owe me now, Jade!"

Mara chuckled and shooed him out the door.


	60. Guitar

**Guitar**

_"I stepped out of Mississippi when I was ten years old_  
_With a suit cut sharp as a razor and a heart made of gold_  
_Had a guitar hanging just about waist high_  
_And I'm going to play this thing, until the day I die."_

_- B.B. King_

_**[ You know what they say, folks. It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock n' roll!]**  
_

It was hanging, partially obscured by the awning of a junk shop on Tatooine when I first saw it. I was nine years old, and after much whining and complaining and being a general pain in all the wrong places, had been allowed to go on a "mission" with my Uncle Han to my father's home planet.

It called to me, strangely enough, and in a foolhardy move on a planet like Tatooine, I strayed away from my uncle's side in the midst of the busy marketplace, drawn to it somehow, until I felt my hand reach out of its own accord and touch the dusty wooden body.

A high-pitched squeaking near my ear wrenched me out of my reverie, and I found myself gazing up into the bright, greedy eyes of a wrinkled old Rodian junk dealer, no doubt naming his price for the object of my choice. A heavy hand descended to tightly grip my shoulder and I heard my uncle's voice drawl,  
"No way he's payin' you that much for such a piece of junk!"

I looked up at him pleadingly, my desire for the 'piece of junk' obviously apparent.

Uncle Han only tightened his hold on my shoulder, almost making me wince, but his own face remained curiously impassive.  
"50", he said.

The Rodian's eyes widened and he tittered in high-pitched fluster, gesticulating wildly.

My uncle remained coolly unmoved.  
"35."

This time, the junk dealer actually looked furious, leaning forward to plant a spindly finger on Uncle Han's chest.

"25 and not a credit more. See, you can keep over-chargin' as much as you want, it's only going to tell me how much that thing is really worth. Even the kid here ain't fool enough to believe you!"

I swivelled my head from one of the arguing parties to the other, not having been able to comprehend a word from the Rodian of course, but at a subtle nudge from my uncle I tried to look as canny as I possibly could.

The Rodian junk dealer threw up his hands and retreated into the dusky interiors of his shop, muttering darkly the whole time, and my hopes almost died with him. Uncle Han gently tried to turn me away from the shop when a rough grunt came from behind us. The Rodian owner was actually unhooking the old, beat-up, Force-knows-how-many-th hand six-string guitar from beneath his awning. Uncle Han flashed me his cockiest lop-sided grin.  
"See? Just like I told ya!"

* * *

Later, we were sitting in a run-down cantina near the spaceport, just a spacer and his boy. He sent me to pick up the drinks we'd ordered from the counter, a whisky for him, a blue milk for me. My head barely came up to the bartop and I had to stand on tiptoe and carefully balance the drinks in both hands.

It was a blaster bolt out of nowhere that shattered the mugs in my hands and sent me reeling from the impact. All at once, the cantina became a chaotic brawl. I had to crawl away on hands and knees through a forest of assorted species legs, relatively easy since I was still pretty small, and make my way over to our table.

A bounty hunter loomed over the table, a blaster pointed straight at Uncle Han's chest. He was clad in armour from head to foot, so I couldn't even make out what species he was.  
Uncle Han didn't look too frightened. He kept sitting there, both his hands on the table, shaking his head and repeating,  
"I have no idea what you're talking about."

I remained hidden, behind a cluster of boots, barely daring to breathe.

The bounty hunter jabbed my uncle with the muzzle of his blaster and uttered some foul sounding words ending in a sneering "Solo". I realized it probably wouldn't be too long until somebody lost their patience and pulled a trigger.  
So I decided to act instead.

The guitar was standing, forgotten, by the side of the booth and it was the only thing remotely weapon-like at hand. Quietly, unobtrusively, I began to inch it towards myself. The bounty hunter and all his goons had their eyes and weapons pointed at the notorious Han Solo, perhaps not even having noticed that he had not come in alone. Silently I rose to my feet, lifted the instrument above my head and smashed it down on the helmeted bounty hunter's head with all the strength I could muster.

Several things happened at once. My newly bought guitar splintered into a million pieces, a gauntleted fist struck me and sent me flying across the floor, blaster fire began to ricochet off walls and furniture and the sound of breaking glass made my spinning head throb. Another hand roughly pulled me to my feet and hustled me from the scene, my ears still ringing, my vision still hazy from the blow I had received just a few seconds earlier.

I don't quite remember how I stumbled and ran and managed to get aboard the _Millennium Falcon_, but the next thing I knew, Uncle Han was pressing a cold compress to the side of my jaw, and the _Falcon _was making its way through hyperspace on auto-pilot.

His brandy brown eyes regarded me with concern.  
"Took quite a socker there, kid", he muttered, "What were you thinking?"

I groped around for a jar of bacta salve to apply to the bruised patch, now numb from the ice.  
"He woulda shot you, Uncle Han."

"No, he would have _tried _to shoot me. Think I'd still be alive today, if I let all the nerf-brained bounty hunters who've ever pointed a blaster in my face get to me?"

He indicated my face.  
"Your mum's going to have a fit when she sees that. She's gonna come after me with a vibroknife."

"I won't tell. I can say I fell down or something."

Uncle Han's eyes twinkled kindly.  
"Your mum's seen her fair share of fights, kid. She'll know a sock to the jaw when she sees it."

I felt my face crumpling in dismay as a wave of horror surged in my heart.  
"You mean she won't let me come with you again?!" I asked tremulously.

Uncle Han winced.  
"Let's hope it doesn't have to come to that, kid."

* * *

It was the flare-out of the century, I bet. Mom and Dad and I yelled at each other across the living room floor.

"It's not Uncle Han's _fault_, Mom! He _rescued _me!"

"He took a nine-year old into a _bar ?_! Has the man no _sense_?!"

"Mara..."

"No, Luke. I know he's your brother-in-law and best friend, but this time he's gone too far. He put _our son _in danger!"

"No he didn't, Mom! He _saved _me!"

"You shouldn't have been in that cantina in the first place, Ben. You shouldn't even have been with your uncle on this _mission_, stang it! You're too young!"

"Han wouldn't have let anything happen to Ben, Mara. You know that. He loves him just as much as we do."

"Oh? Take a look at his face then and tell me if that looks like nothing to you! You're being much too cavalier about this for my liking, Skywalker. Who gives a nine-year old permission to go on a mission to Tatooine anyway? And that too with Han _Blaster-brain _Solo?!"

"It's not that bad. I used to live there, you know."

"He could have _died _there, you know!"

"Don't you think you're over-reacting just a little bit, Mara? I trust Han. And I know you do too."

"_Nothing _is an overreaction when it comes to my son, Skywalker, you hear me?"

"He's my son too."

"Then I have cause to wonder why you aren't feeling the same way."

"Mom! Uncle Han didn't do anything wrong! He was _talking _ to them! _They_ were the ones who  
started it!"

"That's quite enough from you, young man. I don't want you hear any more out of you about this, is that clear?"

And then she stomped off.

I looked pleadingly at my father, staring after Mom with concern in his eyes.  
"Dad...?"

He looked at me and set his lips firmly in resolution.  
"Right. C'mon, son."

* * *

"Solo."

"Mara."

"You've got a lot of nerve coming back. After what you pulled."

The door to my aunt and uncle's apartment was still open and they stood facing each other just inside as Dad and I rushed in. My mother was the very image of cold fury while my uncle faced her bravely, wearing his best 'sabacc face'.

"Uncle Han!"

Mom whirled, her eyes flashing.  
"Skywalker! You brought him here?!"

I ran up to my uncle and stood shielding him courageously from my mother's wrath.  
"Mom! _I_ begged Uncle Han to let me go with him. There wasn't anyone he could leave me with, that's why he took me into the cantina! And I broke my guitar on the bounty hunter's head. He was going to _shoot _ him, Mom! But then they all started shooting anyway! Uncle Han got me out of there. He saved my _life _! You can't be mad at him, Mom!"

My mother's eyes were terrible and I shrank under their merciless gaze. It was almost as though she was too angry to talk to me. She shut her eyes and I saw her take several deep, calming breaths. But before she opened them, she turned on her heel and marched out of my sight once again.

Dad shot me a puzzled look.  
"Guitar?" he asked, "What guitar?"  
But as Mom exited in a foul temper, he let his forehead fall into his hand.  
"This is not good," I heard him mutter as he left briskly in Mom's wake once again.

That left Uncle Han and me, standing in the suddenly empty hallway. My heart had sunk down into my boots when I felt the gentle pressure of a hand squeezing my shoulder.

"Thanks for the save there, kid," Uncle Han whispered in a low tone, "That's two I owe you."

* * *

It took all of Dad's limited negotiating skills to cool Mom down this time. I was grounded 'till further notice', and at Dad's firm prompting, accepted it meekly.

But the next morning brought with it a huge surprise. I woke up to find a rather oddly shaped, oblong package propped up inside my door. Hastily tearing off the wrapping, my breath caught in my throat. It was a spanking new, glossily polished acoustic guitar. And just the right size for me too!  
There was a tag attached to the fretboard. It read: "Now we're quits."

I felt a slow smile steal over my face as I hugged it close to my chest. Suddenly, being grounded indefinitely didn't seem so bad at all!

**_[A/N: Way too long to be a drabble, I know, but it was originally conceived for this thread.]_**


	61. Queens

**Queens**

_**[ A/N: This set is set firmly in my Myri and Me universe.**_

_**I'm going to rate this an M just for innuendo. Believe me I was shocked as well, but I'm afraid this is just how the idea came to me.]**_

"Ok, chin up. Back straight. I might be leading you, but it doesn't mean you have to follow blindly. A princess never slouches."  
Hapan _Chume'da _Allana Djo Solo glared up at her cousin, but obeyed nevertheless, drawing up her slender figure.

He looked back, his calm blue eyes patient as one arm girdled her waist and the other hand held firmly onto one of hers. He nodded imperceptibly as she adopted a new posture, and then the music started.

The tango is a graceful dance, but Allana quickly realized why it might be a mistake to have to learn it from her Jedi Master. Ben Skywalker was a superb dancer, his movements filled with liquid grace. He led her expertly and she could sense his collected focus as he did.  
But he was also her cousin! And Allana felt unusually flustered as they finished flush up against each other, their bodies almost melding into one. She felt herself trembling in his strong but gentle grip and lifted a slightly unsteady hand to brush away an errant lock of hair, unable, for once, to meet his eyes.

"Princess? Everything ok?"

Couldn't he _feel _it, stang it?! They shouldn't be doing this now that she was old enough to be having these... feelings. And understanding them.

But the Queen Mother insisted. A princess must know all the dances and therefore, she must have a dancemaster. Of course, Allana was having none of it. She wouldn't be one of those dolled up pansy princesses fretting over frills and gushing about balls. She was going to be like her Grandma Leia, regal and deadly!

So, Ben ended up being the natural compromise. She couldn't mind dancing with one she regarded as her big brother. Except that he was such a kriffing talented dancer! And with a body and moves most women would swoon over, and, in fact, did. Allana was now beginning to see how they might just have a point...

_No! _ He was her _brother!_ She was _Chume'da _ and he was _married! _ How could she even be _thinking _ these things?! _Ugh!_

She hurriedly broke off their embrace  
"I'm just tired, Ben. Long day. M-Maybe we can continue tomorrow?"  
She glanced up with an uncertain smile, knowing she would feign an excuse for tomorrow as well. And the day after. And the day after that...

Her Master's eyes were blithely innocent. Of course he had to be much too old and experienced to be feeling the same things as a hormonal nineteen-year-old! He smiled easily.

"Sure, Princess. Good night."

"You staying up?"

"I think I'll meditate for a bit."

"Good night, then."

"Sweet dreams, Princess."

* * *

It had been years and years since she'd danced in these halls. She remembered when she had been a child and her mother and she had frolicked here, unknown to other Hapan eyes, or when her otherwise perfectly dapper father had set her on his shoulders and raced like a rancor or spun her around until she was breathless and giddy.

Queen Mother Tenel Ka Djo smiled to herself in the dark.

The almost silent flapping of a Jedi robe caught the very edge of her senses and she squinted until she could make out the nearly invisible silhouette of a tall young man standing relaxed but alert in meditative stance before the large windows opening out into the crisp Hapan night at the far end.

"A fine night to be meditating, Jedi Skywalker."

"You have very fine nights here on Hapes, Queen Mother."

Ben didn't open his eyes, but his lips curled in a slightly lop-sided smile.  
"I sensed your amusement."

Tenel Ka smiled into the night herself.  
"Oh it was nothing. Old reminiscences. How is Allana's dancing coming along?"

"You should see for yourself. She's becoming quite the young lady."

"Fact. You children do grow up fast!"

Ben smirked openly this time.  
"Hey, I'm _your_ generation, remember?"

They stood in companionable silence until Ben asked in a quiet voice.  
"How long has it been?"

Tenel Ka raised a shapely eyebrow.  
"Since?"

"Since you danced? Did he... ever...?"

Her expression grew sorrowful and she slowly shook her head. They both understood whom he had meant.  
"No. Somehow we never got around to it. He... was never really the dancing type, was he? Besides, it's a little difficult keeping up with a partner without the use of an arm."

She smiled ruefully.

Ben turned to face her and looked her straight in the eyes.  
" But Your Grace, that doesn't have to matter at all."

He was the perfect gentleman, of course, but she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so heady in a man's arms.  
_Of course, she'd always found it too painful to be with a man since..._  
She was surprised at her own lack of control and tamped down on her emotions hard.

The music was soulful, even a little melancholy. Beautiful, really.

He stepped back respectfully once it was over and gave her a formal bow. She responded with a traditional Hapan curtsey.

And it was only then that she realized that for the entire dance, he had made her quite forget that she didn't have an arm.

* * *

"Nothing fits me any more!"

Myri Antilles-Skywalker tugged at her dress, now clinging all too tightly to her inflated curves.

She flopped down on the bed and looked to her husband in dismay, irrational, hormonal tears stinging the backs of her eyes.  
"It's the beginning of the end, isn't it?" she said, mournfully, "I'll never look sexy again."

Ben Skywalker gaped at her in surprise, then came forward to kneel before her and take her hand gently in his.  
"I think you look just wonderful, sweetheart."

He kissed her temple and brushed a hand over her belly, now just beginning to show.

She was unusually tired after their night out, and leaned back gratefully against him as he keyed open the door and reached for the light switch, her eyelids drooping...

Suddenly, a very familiar melody started to play and Myri blinked in surprise. It was warm and rich and brought back a flood of memories of just the two of them dancing to it a thousand times and then collapsing onto the bed in sheepish giggles.

In an unconscious movement, she was wrapped in his arms and looking up into his loving eyes as they danced slowly in perfect sync. He even managed to sweep her down for the finale and despite herself, Myri giggled. Ben kissed the soft swell of her breasts and looked deep, deep into her eyes as he whispered determinedly,  
"Nothing will ever change my mind about the fact that you are the sexiest woman I have ever laid eyes on, Eight. Or that I will always love you."


	62. Run

**Run**

**_[ A/N: The Masters of Mischief strike again! Adult humour. Rated a T at the very least! Sorry, kids. This is not for you!]_**

**_I. Stealing Beer_**

Too late he heard it. The muffled cry of "Run!" echoing through the passages of the ship.

In haste he put the wrong foot backwards, overbalanced and tumbled from the top of a stack of unevenly balanced crates with a loud yell. The case he'd just been able to get his fingertips on also crashed beside him, barely missing the side of his head, and spilled its contents. Several cans of beverage clattered onto the floor. He had just enough time to grab the few closest to him and scramble to his feet. But his exit was blocked.

"Drop 'em," the stern voice of Mirax Terrik Horn commanded.

He dropped them.

"I thought Valin was paying particular interest when I mentioned I'd be getting a special consignment of lomin ale this time. Can't say I'm surprised. But you are far too young to be drinking."

"But-"

Her dark eyes glared at him dangerously.  
"Young Skywalker, if you know what's best for you, I suggest you do an about-face and run or else I shall see to it that you are frog-marched to your father and he is told expressly of just what I found you upto."

Ben Skywalker gulped. There seemed no better way out. He turned tail and ran.

* * *

_**II. Stealing a Kiss**_

He saw the speeder turn into the driveway two minutes too late, engaged as he was in the arms of his latest conquest. With a hasty last kiss to the girl behind the tree, he gave himself a hasty once-over to ensure his buttons were done, his hair fairly presentable and that there were no lipstick marks to give him away.

His latest object of affection giggled prettily, but couldn't seem to keep her hands off him pulling him in forcefully for a last minute smooch. His eyes widened as a burly man dressed in an immaculate business tabard stepped out and proceeded into the house. He struggled to wrangle himself out of his girl's grasp, flashing her his winning smile and a few words of apology. He had to disappear. And fast!

He was half-way up the wall of the estate before he remembered his friend, possibly in a far worse condition than himself, in one of the upstairs bedrooms! He leaped down to the ground and scooted back to the house, counting the windows as he went. There was no time left for discretion. Inserting two fingers into his mouth, he gave a piercing whistle.

From somewhere upstairs came the clattering and thumping of a man getting dressed in an awful hurry.

Sounds of minor turmoil had already started from within and he was feeling desperate. He wouldn't be able to hang around and wait much longer. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled,

"Valin! Run!"

More clattering and thumping from upstairs. Shadows had appeared in the main doorway and had spotted him as well.

He made a run for the boundary wall, looking back only when he was halfway up it again to see a figure clad only in his trousers, take a flying leap out of one of the windows, cushion his fall, roll and come dashing behind him at full speed.

Ben Skywalker grinned with the rush of pure adrenaline, then saw blasters being aligned in their general direction. Reaching down, he helped haul his friend up the rest of the wall, jumped off on the other side, and ran.

* * *

_**III. Stealing Out**_

They were simply caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Of all times to be caught in a cantina raid!

Valin tossed the bag of spice to Ben, then backed away slowly, disappearing out the door behind the bar.

Ben cursed fluently under his breath and turned towards the exit... only to find himself face to face with the business end of a heavy-duty blaster held by a particularly ugly bounty hunter.  
"Point that thing someplace else," he growled.  
His only response was a fierce guttural muttering and having the blaster shoved so forcefully in his face, it nearly knocked out a tooth.

Ben's mood was souring by the second.  
"Look pal, I don't have time for this. Just get out of my way nice and quiet-like and no one has to get hurt."  
This was obviously not the bounty hunter's intention, because Ben saw his finger move the catch surreptitiously from "stun" to "kill".

It was time to act fast. He layered his voice with the Force and used it to project a real sense of panic.  
"Look! CSF! Behind you!"

It worked. On instinct, the plug-ugly jerked his head around to check and Ben made his escape.

But he skidded to a halt at the exit, his face contorting in dismay.  
"_Fierfek_!" he swore.

Black-uniformed CSF officers blocked the doorway, scanning every being going out for smuggled narcotics.

He plastered a casual smile on his face and ambled towards them, wondering how he'd be able to charm his ass out of this one.

"Sir. I'm going to need to scan you, please. Step aside this way."

The wisest thing would be to co-operate. Ben complied meekly.

Too bad the Force didn't work on gadgets, he thought as the scanner beeped shrilly over the lump in his inside pocket.

"What's this, sir? Do you have a license for this amount of spice? I'm going to need some identification-"

"You don't need to see his identification."

"N-no need to see your identification."

"This isn't the dealer you're looking for."

"This isn't the dealer we're looking for."

"He can go about his business."

"You can go about your business."

"Move along."

"Move along, move along. Next?"

Ben slipped out with a gasp.  
"Thanks, mate," he clapped Valin on the shoulder, his hand trembling ever so slightly.  
"That was a close one."

Valin grinned.  
"Anytime, bro!"

"This stash had better be worth all what we just had to go through, though," he said, jabbing a finger back at the mess they'd just left behind.

"Don't worry. My guy said it's gonna take us on one helluva trip!"

All of a sudden there were sounds of a violent scuffle in the club's doorway.

The two men turned around.

"Friend of yours?" Valin asked casually.

The ugly bounty hunter was strangling one of the CSF guards and aiming his blaster at Ben's head at the same time.

"You could say that."

They caught each other's eye.

"Run?"

"Run."

They ran.

_**[A/N: Now I don't mean to imply that either Ben or Valin are spice junkies, but they've been through that pahse everyone goes through when they've... experimented!]**_


	63. Tail

**Tail**

"So where's your tail?"

Young Jysella Horn lounged casually in the doorway of the small room in Shelter Base where her elder brother was trying, not with much success, to telekinetically stack a pile of large pebbles one on top of the other.

Valin Horn scowled at his sister's interruption to his concentration and the pebble he had managed to painfully levitate a half inch off the floor, clattered back onto the ground.  
"How should I know? He's the one who keeps following me around! I'm just glad to be left alone for a change!"

The kids were talking about Valin's latest admirer, little toddler Ben Skywalker. For some inexplicable reason, Ben had recently become a little overly attached to Valin, and insisted on following him around the base everywhere! Needless to say, fifteen year old Valin was not pleased. He already had a little sister annoying the life out of him. Now he had to put up with a new two-year old tail!

And you had to hand it to Ben, he was remarkably persistent! Valin had tried yelling at him, trying to scare him off by leaving him alone in unknown places, he'd even tried to bribe him and then slip away, but nothing had worked. Inevitably, he would hear the little squeal or giggle announcing the presence of the twinkle-eyed little toddler, sucking his thumb and crawling up to tug at his leggings.  
In his despair, Valin had wondered if this was the Force's retribution for the way he had idolized Anakin Solo when he had been a much younger padawan on Yavin IV.

But it was the worst when he tried to play his music. The instant he would tune up his chordokeylo and begin something, little Ben would drop whatever he was doing and come crawling to find him and would refuse to budge as long as he played, gazing with his wide blue eyes at Valin as if he was a magician instead of a musician. Valin truly felt he was at his wits end!

But his sister's sudden statement struck him. For the first time in he couldn't remember how long, there was no sign of Ben Skywalker around. Valin felt his brow crease slowly in puzzlement. He firmly told himself he ought to make the most of this opportunity of being able to garner a bit of real privacy, but for some unknown reason, the child's continued absence nettled him.  
That evening, even as he sat down in blissful solitude with his instrument, he found himself looking up after every stroke on the keyboard, almost expecting the little boy to come toddling in as he almost always did.

But he didn't.

Valin put aside his chordokeylo and stood up, now well and truly worried. Had the damn kid fallen down somewhere and hurt himself? Or had he gotten well and truly lost and was crying fearfully in some dark corner he hadn't explored before?  
He reached out through the Force, trying to search for the infant's Force signature. He didn't really expect to find it. Ben was unusually adept at hiding himself from the Force, even at this young age.  
But wait. He thought he felt a flicker of something... Of fear, a terrible, heart-wrenching fear, and a sudden acute flash of pain and anguish...  
Valin took off at a run.

* * *

The largest room which had been converted into a dormitory for the youngest Jedi on Shelter was dark and empty at this time of day. The kids were all out at lessons or at play. Valin searched the depths of the darkness, but could see nothing. The brief flicker of intense emotion he had sensed from Ben earlier had winked out long ago. He was almost about to leave when he heard a soft sniffle and a whimper.

He turned.  
"Ben?" he called softly into the darkness, "Are you in there, buddy?"

Something shifted underneath the blankets of the farthest cot, and Valin thought he caught a glimpse of tousled red-gold hair.

He walked forward cautiously.  
"Ben? Are you alright?"

He very obviously wasn't alright. Little Ben Skywalker was curled up in a tight, terrified little ball, whimpering and shaking and fat tears were rolling down his pudgy cheeks.

The sight tugged at Valin's heart. Carefully, he extended a hand to stroke the infant's soft red-gold head.  
"Hey. What's up, little buddy?" he tried to soothe the frightened child clumsily, wondering if he should go and call Master Tionne.  
"Something scared you? Hey, it's ok, Ben. Shhh."

But Ben's terrified crying continued.

Valin looked around desperately for anything with which to comfort him.  
He found a toy X-wing lying on the floor beside the next bed and picked it up.  
"Look, Ben! X-wing! Whooosh! Your daddy flies an X-wing, right? See? Here's Daddy's X-wing and it's coming to make everything ok!"

Ben had turned to look at him, his face red and blotchy with tear-stains, his innocent blue eyes liquid.  
But just as Valin said "Daddy", Ben's lower lip trembled and he started bawling at the top of his lungs.  
Valin dropped the toy and hurriedly picked him up,afraid that he would bring the entire base running, rocking him like he'd seen Master Tionne do sometimes when he refused to go to sleep.  
"Ben! What's the matter with you, kid?"  
Ben was actually fighting him, flailing and kicking, throwing his arms and legs about. He actually got the older boy good with a kick in his ribs and Valin nearly doubled over.  
He sat down on the bed and held him close, reaching out with the Force in an attempt to pacify the screaming toddler, and then almost screamed himself.

He was in a lair of yorrik coral and the dank darkness around him was punctuated by the violent sounds of battle and intense flashes of light. A succession of images began flashing in a rapid sequence through his mind and he almost couldn't make out what was happening until he paid close attention. A fantastically frightening Yuuzhan Vong was locked in a terrible duel with a Jedi Master. Amphistaffs darted and retreated as the Jedi's lightsaber moved in breathlessly fluid motion. But even as the amphistaffs backed off under attack by the Jedi, one of them, particularly black and vicious, rose up and struck him. He opened his mouth in a wordless scream, but never ceased to fight. The Yuuzhan Vong had picked up a purple bladed lightsaber and was about to finish him off, when the Master seized the other blade and in a spectacular finish, beheaded the Vong warrior. But alongside the headless carcass of the Yuuzhan Vong, he too tumbled to the floor and lay still.

Ben was openly sobbing now, his little hands bunched up in the cloth of Valin's tunic, and Valin himself was sitting stock-still, clutching the baby, frozen in place by the vision he had just witnessed.  
"Daddy!"  
Valin was finally able to make out the muffled cries coming from his shoulder.  
"Daddy!"  
Ben was calling plaintively for his father, but his father could not hear him.

For Valin had recognized the fearless Jedi Master in the vision he'd just shared with the little boy. Ben had been seeing his father, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, leader of the Jedi Order, fighting and slaying the Supreme Overlord of the Yuuzhan Vong. But now, Ben could also feel him dying as he lay poisoned by amphistaff venom.  
Valin didn't know how long Ben had been seeing the vision of his father, but he knew how he would feel were it his own father in Luke Skywalker's place, and the thought left him cold.

He looked down at the two-year old, crying helplessly against him, and he tightened his hold on him.  
"He'll make it," he finally whispered.  
"Don't cry, Ben. Your daddy's going to make it. He'll come for you in his X-wing. You'll see. He's just won the war. Everything's going to be alright now."


	64. Grandfather

**_[ A/N: Set in the "Myri and Me" universe. A sudden sequel to my previous drabble, "Affair".]_**

**Grandfather**

Luke Skywalker strode into the hangar bays of the Jedi base on Shedu Maad to greet his disembarking son.  
"Where's my grandson?" he enquired without much ado by way of greeting.

Ben Skywalker, a tall, well-built, handsome young man, now in his early thirties, let out a breath, regarding his father askance.  
"It's good to see you too, Dad."

Luke Skywalker's eyes twinkled.  
"No, but seriously, Ben. I wish you would bring him over more often. I get to see far too little of him as it is."

Ben gave him a mischievous grin.  
"You promise to babysit? And take full responsibility for all that he'll get up to?"

Luke looked irritated.  
"I did take care of you for most of your life, you know. Compared to what_ you_ used to be, little Ty is a walk in the park!"

Ben snorted.  
"Try getting my wife to believe that!"

"She blames it squarely on the Skywalker genes, huh?"

"What can I say? My reputation has always preceded me."

Luke's eyes narrowed.  
"Well then, perhaps you can enlighten _her_ that atleast half of the grey hairs on General Wedge Antilles' head are a direct result of various of _her _ antics! So she's just as far up there on the list as you!"

Ben grinned.  
"It's such a pleasant change when you actually take _my _ side, for once!"

The corner of Luke's lips twitched. Ben shook his head.  
"Myri's logic is that he'll have to be incarcerated in the Academy soon enough, so we might as well spend what little time with him we can while we still have the chance."

Luke flashed him a pained look.  
"Incarceration? Is that what you call it now?"

"Think about it, Dad. How come I never attended the Academy?"

"Your mother spoilt you."

Ben's eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline.  
"Wow! You sure have a lot of nerve! She'll exact her revenge in the afterlife, I hope you remember!"

"Can't wait!"

Ben rolled his eyes.

Luke smirked over at him.  
"So the wife let you go without a fight?"

Ben passed a hand over his face.  
"I hate it when you read me like a book, you know that?"

Luke set a hand on his son's shoulder.  
"Just doing my job being your dad, son."

His voice softened.  
"Hey, I know how hard it can be."

Ben looked at him curiously.

Luke's eyes seemed to be gazing a long distance away.  
"I had to leave you so many times when you were a baby. I would tell myself I was doing it for your future, for the greater good. But no amount of logic would ever be able to ease the pain of seeing that look on your face as I said goodbye."

Ben swallowed the lump in his throat.  
"I guess I know what you mean now, Dad. That's the way Ty looks at me when I board the _Skycrawler _ without him."

He shook his head ruefully.  
"Myri glares daggers at me everytime I get the summons from the Council."

"I'm sorry I have to keep tearing you away from them, Ben."  
His father's voice was as soft as it was apologetic.  
"You have a young family who need you. I wish I could give you the time to be there for them. Corran and Chief of State Dorvan keep you busy enough as it is."

Ben turned to face his father.  
"While we're on the subject of picking bones then, here's the one I have to pick with you, and it's not the one you expect."

Luke looked back, his eyebrows raised in question.

"It's time you took a step back, Dad, and handed over the helm to the next generation. You're working yourself too damn hard and you don't seem to realize that age has caught up with you too and you're not the limber young Knight you once used to be."

Luke Skywalker's face closed up and his jaw set stubbornly.  
"I'll exercise my own judgement about when I see fit to retire, Jedi Skywalker. I believe I've told you so before."

Ben huffed in exasperation.  
"Sometimes you're worse than my son, you know that Dad? And he's only two! Look, the only reason I'm insisting is because I don't want you to miss out on his life like you missed out on mine. He's growing so fast, Dad! And I want you to be there for that. I want him to get to know his grandfather. Myri and I are kept on our toes, what with jobs and responsibilities, and we don't want him to be raised by an army of droids. I know you'll have him here full time in a few years, when he joins the Academy, but I don't want him to know you just as Grand Master. You can be so much more to him than that!"

Luke sighed and ran a hand through his grey hair.  
"I know, son, and I appreciate your concern, but... the Order still needs me, Ben."

Ben placed his hands on his hips and gazed at him sternly.  
"The Order will never stop needing you, Dad, as long as you're there to offer it your guidance. But that doesn't mean you need to burn yourself out in its service. It's time the Order learnt to steer itself without you in the pilot's seat, and more importantly, it's time you learnt to do without it. I know the thought scares you, this is what you've devoted your entire life to. But this is becoming just like it was after Mom died. You're just too unwilling to let go and see what's beyond. There's more to life than just your work, Dad. That's why I keep begging you to come back to Coruscant with me. Take some time off, spend some quality time with your family, your grandson. Don't just be a legend to him, be a grandfather! Dad, please, won't you atleast consider?"

Luke looked at his son, startled. Ben and Leia were often the only ones with enough courage to speak so frankly with him.  
_Could he be right? Am I simply clinging on to the Order because I'm too afraid of exploring my life without it?_

Eventually he gave a small nod without letting on what he was thinking.  
"Very well. I will consider."

* * *

"Daddy!"

Ben smiled affectionately at the bluish image of his son, held tightly in his mother's arms and all dressed for bed.  
"Hey there, sport! Made your mum's life hell enough for one day?"

Ty nodded enthusiastically.

"There's my boy!"

Myri rolled her eyes, but smiled nevertheless.  
"Great going, Red. Encourage him in all his mischief. You're not the one here to clean up its aftermath."

Ben leaned forward and locked eyes with his son conspiratorially.  
"That's right, Mommy. It's the mischief that tells me he's learning to think for himself and not just doing what he's told."

"I swear I'm going to come over there and dump him off on you and your father, Red, and then take a long, well-deserved vacation for myself! Let's see you handling him by yourself!"

Ben and Ty looked at Myri with identically beseeching gazes.  
"Awww, but Mommy! We'd miss you! Wouldn't you miss us?"

Despite herself, she smiled at the teasing and bent to kiss the top of her son's head while keeping her eyes on the image of her husband.  
"I already do."

"Tell you what," a new voice interjected into the comm conversation from behind Ben, "Why don't you do that, Myri? You two have barely had any time for yourselves lately, why don't you go on a bit of a vacation and leave the little one with me?"

Myri smiled at the sight of her father-in-law entering the comm's visibility field.  
"Grand Master Skywalker. That's very kind of you to offer and I won't say that I'm not sorely tempted, but I'm afraid I couldn't possibly unleash such a terror upon you!"

Luke patted his son on the back.  
"Oh but my dear, you're forgetting that I'm the one primarily responsible for turning the little devil that this one used to be once upon a time into something even remotely resembling a civilized human being!"

"I hope Mom can hear you saying these things, Dad, wherever she is," Ben muttered darkly.

Luke continued to smile into the holocomm.  
"I daresay if I've managed to do it once and come out with my sanity intact, I might just be up for another shot."

"Who said anything about your sanity being intact?"

Ben was caught completely unaware by the cuff on the side of his head.  
"Owww! Dad!"

Little Tyrion emitted a squeal of laughter on seeing his father getting disciplined and even Myri fought in vain to hide an amused smirk.

"Geez. Thanks a lot, Dad," Ben scowled, rubbing his ear.  
"Ty will never take me seriously again."

"But he will know when I mean business, which is what I was aiming for anyway."  
Luke leaned forward, smiling at his grandson. The little boy gurgled and squirmed in his mother's embrace, trying to reach out a hand to touch the shimmering image of his grandfather.

"Red?"  
Myri's eyes held a silent plea in them. Ben tried to think back to the last time he and Myri had been able to spend some time together...alone. He couldn't. Not since little Tyrion had been born. Their jobs would often keep them apart for lengths of time and once they returned, they wouldn't be able to bear the thought of leaving their son in someone else's care.  
But that didn't mean they didn't miss it. Being just a young couple, without the worries of galactic security or an infant child. It was time they very sorely needed.

Ben looked from his father to his wife and then to his son, curiously trying to touch what to him must have appeared as a small floating image of his grandfather, and suddenly his mind was made.  
"Think you can wheedle some time off, Eight?"

"For a vacation? I'll pull the strings at CSF so hard, they won't be left with a choice!"  
Clearly, Myri was desperate.

He gave her a lop-sided grin.  
"Well then, I guess you'd better fire up the old _Sky-Blue_. You'll have to be dropping off our little parcel for Dad to play with here-"

"That won't be necessary," the Grand Master's voice interjected into their conversation once more.  
"My son ought to be grateful enough to provide me with a lift to Coruscant."

Ben whirled, his mouth falling open in shock.  
"What? Dad, you- ?"

Luke was grinning like a Besalisk.  
"This is only a trial run, mind," he warned.  
"My darling grandson will have to prove himself an irresistible companion before I agree to become a full-time baby-sitter for you two!"

Ben very nearly had tears in his eyes.  
"Dad! You- you'll-"  
His words caught in his throat.

"I'm not promising anything just yet," Luke jabbed a firm finger in his son's chest.  
"A lot is riding on how far Ty is going to be able to change my mind."

Ben gave a light-hearted chuckle as he wrapped an affectionate arm around his father's shoulders.  
"Well then, I think you two are going to have a whale of a time together, Dad. My little kid is just like me!"


	65. Surprise

_**[A/N: Yes, I confess! I'm a little obsessed with Ben-Myri fluff right now! Post 'Myri and Me'.]**_

**Surprise**

She smiled to herself thinking of how surprised the kids would be to see her as she pulled up to the apartment complex. Moving was always tiring and tempers always tended to get frayed. She'd brought along a nice, hot packed lunch for all of them, recalling fondly how her daughter loved her minced nerf chilli wraps.

Iella Wessiri Antilles was on her way to surprise her daughter and new son-in-law as they settled into their new apartment on Coruscant after the wedding, hoping to be allowed to lend a hand and bearing lunch. She paused outside the entrance, left slightly ajar and wondered whether she should knock. From a brief glance within, it was clearly evident that the painting job was very much underway and tins of paint, applicators and stained rags were strewn around the bare front hall.

Suddenly, Iella heard the faint strains of music and a stifled rather bashful giggle. She stepped in and walked slowly towards the source of the sound.

There, in one of the inner rooms, the newlywed couple were entangled in each other's arms in a particularly romantic moment.

Iella stopped a few steps outside, inadvertently colouring, hoping she hadn't intruded on anything too private! They still hadn't noticed her and as they separated, Iella could see splashes of paint on their clothes and faces. One of them had obviously started a paint-fight and with Ben and Myri, it was hard to tell who might have been the original instigator.

But it was the look on their faces that melted her mother's heart.  
They had eyes for no one but each other and the love she could see shining in them was warmer than the twin cores of Tatooine's suns. Ben twirled Myri around in time to the soft music playing from somewhere within and they both laughed as she spun back into his arms. He bent down to whisper something to her then that Iella couldn't hear, but she had never seen her daughter so coy. And his smile was a carbon copy of the one she had seen on his father at his own wedding, decades ago.

Wedge had been stubborn all over nothing. These two were so ridiculously happy with each other! They were meant to be, just as she and he had always been meant to be.

Iella felt her eyes misting over and was unable to stifle the small sniff that escaped. Instantly, the young couple in the room sprang apart, blushing to the roots of their hair.

"Mom! Oh...we-we didn't hear you come in..." Myri gushed, striding forward to enfold her mother in a hug.

The colour of her son-in-law's face nearly matched with his fiery red-gold mop and he was only able to manage half a lop-sided grin in greeting.

Given away at last, Iella stepped in beaming, holding out the clearplast-wrapped dish she was carrying.  
"Painting is hungry work," she remarked, her eyes twinkling with humour, "So I thought I'd drop by and bring lunch."

Almost immediately, the two in front of her brightened with looks that reminded her so much of the two of them as small children.

Iella laughed and handed the dish over to Myri to set out as she planted a warm kiss on her forehead, then extended her arms to her tall son-in-law who came forward in turn to receive her hug.  
"Gee, thanks, Aunt- ummm... Iella."

She chuckled at his hesitancy.  
"Things are changing around here, Ben, so I'll give you fair warning. Getting married was the easy part. Now you're going to have to deal with a mother-in-law dropping by to surprise you two all at inappropriate moments!"

Ben winked at her mischievously, wrapping an arm about her shoulder and steering her in the direction of the kitchen where Myri had unpacked a few plates to eat from.

"Well in that case, I've gotta warn you, you might be in for a surprise or two as well. Or, if you happen to bring the General along, utter _shock _!"

Iella's eyes widened at his unabashed innuendo and she swatted at him playfully.

Standing in the kitchen, Myri rolled her eyes and commented dryly,  
"Seeing as how you can barely keep your paws off me, I'm _sure _ that would be a surprise."

Ben laughed and grabbed her around the waist, pushing her up against the counter.  
"Now, now, my sweet, you know you like my surprises just as much as I do!"

Iella pointedly cleared her throat.  
"I was hoping I wouldn't have to discreetly take my leave _quite _ so soon..."

Myri poked her head around her husband's shoulder, trying in vain to fend off his attentions.  
"You and Dad let me marry him, Mom!_ Now_ you're surprised?!"


	66. Alderaan

**Alderaan**

It was the time of year when his aunt Leia would grow quiet and withdrawn, and the family would allow her that time of mourning to herself. It was the anniversary of the destruction of Alderaan, a pain his aunt bore alone for no one else in their family could possibly understand what it felt like to see one's home-planet obliterated in front of one's eyes, to lose everyone and everything, every shred of one's identity in a matter of seconds.

When he had been younger, much, much younger, too young to understand these things, he remembered having felt distressed at sensing his aunt's quiet melancholy. He had toddled up to her and tugged at her dress, gazing up at her with beseeching liquid blue eyes, unable to comprehend how, when everyone else seemed fairly normal, she felt so sad. But she had only looked down on him, her eyes dark and unreadable, and then looked away, ignoring all further acts of consolation until his mother had come and picked him up and gently told him that his aunt needed to be left alone.

But it still bothered him. The sense of helplessness, of utter and complete loss and devastation. It felt like a gaping hole within his aunt, with only cold, cold vacuum within. The others told him to stay still, to respect his aunt's period of grief. But he kept on feeling like he had to do something.

Thus, this year, on the anniversary of the destruction of Alderaan, Leia Organa Solo found a small piece of flimsi folded discreetly beside her pillow,anonymously inviting her to a room in the heart of the Jedi Temple for a service of commemoration. Initially, she hadn't wanted to go, she preferred to be solitary on this day as the only Alderaanian who had seen the catastrophe occur in front of her very eyes. But despite herself, curiosity overtook her and she found her steps wandering toward the destination prescribed in the invitation.

It was an otherwise bare room, one of the many that had been in use as individual meditation chambers in the heyday of the Jedi of the Old Republic, but now had fallen into disuse. Only two young Jedi sat inside, patiently waiting for her in silence beside a stately pianoforte.  
As she entered, one of them rose and assumed his place behind the instrument. The other maintained his stance, cross-legged on the floor, his eyes closed as though in meditation. Leia, too, sat down in a similar position, wondering what all this was leading up to. Not a word had yet been spoken.

As she settled, the elder of the two began a soft melody on the piano. Leia's eyes widened slightly in surprise. It was an old Alderaanian song, one she had heard rendered in musical soirees in the court of House Organa in her childhood. Her nephew, sitting facing her, opened his eyes and Leia was struck by the deep serenity in his twin pools of blue. Oddly, it calmed her, and lent her a feeling of peace. And then he began.

She had no idea where he had learnt the ancient tongue of Alderaan, but he sang, softly, but with deep power, his voice vibrating within the confines of the chamber, but seemingly for no ears but her own.  
Leia closed her eyes and let the music wash over her, relaxing and allowing the old memories to flood her consciousness.

He couldn't possibly have known them, but he sang every word with passion and feeling, his rich timbre capturing their every nuance, the haunting lilt of the piano providing only the barest of accompaniment. One by one he went through them all, the performance lasting for nearly an hour. At some point tears had welled in her eyes and she had let them flow unhindered down her cheeks. The beauty and the sadness were almost too much to bear.

He came to a stop as the piano trailed away at the end of the final song, and lifted his eyes to hers. She saw trepidation there. Had she understood? Was it enough? Had he gone too far?  
It was perfect and Leia sat for a long while simply staring back at her nephew, savouring the aftertaste of the flawless recital, unable to convey in words the magnitude of what he had achieved.

Finally, she stood and he rose alongwith her. She walked forward and wrapped him in a loving embrace, leaning her head against his warm chest. She could hear the soft rhythmic thump of his heart, and for some reason, that soothed her further. He held her like that for as long as she let him, neither needing to communicate through words to understand what the other was feeling.

"How did you find them?" she managed at last, her voice catching ever so slightly.  
"I tracked down some holocrons and old recordings, and managed to dig up the sheet music from the Archives. Did you like it?"  
She looked up into his eyes, not knowing how to reply to that without breaking down completely, and whispered only a simple "Thank you", but there was an ocean of emotion behind it. He only smiled. He understood.

She ran into her brother while exiting the Temple and he regarded her curiously.  
"Leia?" he asked with genuine concern, "Are you alright?"  
She managed a shaky smile and nodded, hastily brushing away the last vestiges of tears on her cheeks.  
"Your son," she said, clasping her brother's shoulder, and looking him deep in the eyes, "is blessed with a wonderful gift, Luke. Don't let it go to waste."


	67. Survivor

**Survivor**

For a moment, he blanked out. Every inch of him was aching, there were a dozen bleeding slashes down his back and he was hobbling on a badly injured knee. He was drawing heavily on the Force simply to keep himself upright and he knew he was in desperate need of medical help. That was why he had somehow forced himself to stumble to her. She would get him out, she would find him a healer. She always did.

But instead she had taken one look at him, stomped over, her eyes blazing with an unnatural fury, and started screaming at him.

Ben Skywalker swayed on his feet, on the brink of collapse, and looked with frank amazement at his cousin sister, Jaina Solo-Fel, not lifting a finger to help him, instead yelling at the top of her lungs about what an irresponsible nerf he was.

"...DO YOU EVEN STOP TO THINK?! DO YOU?! HUH?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU DO TO THE PEOPLE WHO CARE ABOUT YOU?! YES, BEN. THERE ARE SOME PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY _**CARE **_ ABOUT YOU! BUT ALL YOU'RE CAPABLE OF IS REFUSING DIRECT ORDERS AND RUNNING OFF INTO THE HEAT OF A FIGHT AS IF THE ENTIRE GALAXY WOULD FALL APART IF YOU HELD BACK TO LISTEN FOR EVEN ONE SECOND! IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK BEING A JEDI IS ALL ABOUT?! IS IT?! BECAUSE IF THAT'S SO, THEN MAYBE YOU'RE NOT FIT TO BE A JEDI!"

"Jaina..." he gasped weakly, unable to fathom the vehemence in her tone,"Please...help..."

Jaina regarded him, a furious flame burning in her eyes. He was in bad shape. His clothes were singed and slashed and stained with blood in countless places. He must have taken a head wound too because one side of his face was covered in a semi-dried river of blood. His blackened grimy hand that stretched pleadingly towards her was trembling violently. She fought back her tears, her overpowering urge to pick him up bodily in her arms and run at top-speed to the nearest medbay. He just kept doing this too often. Too bloody often!

She marched over and hauled him roughly to his feet, ignoring his yelp of protest. She set his arm around her shoulder for support and half dragged him towards the nearest medbay. And all the while she didn't so much as look at him.

"Jaina..."  
Ben was having to spit out blood from his mouth between sentences as he stumbled at her side, wincing in pain.  
"You- you mad... at me?"  
Jaina continued to ignore him until she found a recently vacated bunk and dumped him unceremoniously on it.

He collapsed with a sigh and his tired eyes closed upon themselves.

Jaina felt a lump lodge in her throat at the sight of her little brother, wounded and in pain.  
She brought her face up right next to his and spoke in a fierce whisper,  
"Yes, little brother. I am mad at you. And I have every right to be! What- what you did just now... that was the most Force-damned stupidly _heroic _ thing I have ever seen! But did you have to do it alone? Do you always have to go out there alone? Because I die a little every time you do. You're the last one, Ben. The last brother I have left. I couldn't save the other two and I'll never be able to forgive myself if I fail to save you too. I beg of you, please! Stop this. Stop doing this to_ me_. To all those you leave behind. We- we can't lose you, too!"

She bent her head so he wouldn't be able to see the tears finally escaping down her cheeks.

And that's when she felt her hand held in a gentle if trembling squeeze.  
She looked up, startled, but Ben's eyes were still closed.  
"I'm sorry I make you worry so much about me, Jen. But if I'm not out there, I can't ask anyone else to follow me into it. You understand, don't you? But I won't leave you. You won't have to cry for me. I'll come back, sis, I promise. Maybe begging you to carry me the rest of the way to a medbay, but...I'll always come back to you."

She saw his eyes looking back deep into hers, shining with tears too. Tears of love and promise.

Jaina attempted a shaky smile and hastily scrubbed her cheeks. She stood up and affectionately ruffled his hair.  
"I'll be waiting, little brother. But if you ever give me such a scare again..."

And this time, his smile was a perfect copy of the lopsided grin her own father had made famous.  
"I know."


	68. Father

_**A/N: Set firmly within my Myri and Me story-verse. Missing moment from the story.**_

They had both happened to have work on the same day in the administrative bureau of the Justice Centre Building, and were both engrossed in their respective datapads as they walked towards the bank of turbo-lifts on their way down. One was busy rapidly texting while the other was reading a memo with a frown on his face and it wasn't until the lift had started its descent that they looked up and simultaneously did a double-take.  
Ben Skywalker was trapped in an elevator with his ex-girlfriend's father, General Tycho Celchu.

The General's clear blue eyes went wide.  
"You!" he gasped.

Ben gulped in a throat gone suddenly and exceedingly dry. His blood drained away from his face and he fought for breath. Clenching his eyes shut, he called on the Force for reserves of calm.

The General too seemed to be having similar trouble in maintaining his composure, clearly stifling an urge to throttle him then and there.

Ben drew in a deep breath and struggled to put a smile on his face.  
"Good day, General. I hope you are well?"

"Well?!_ Well?! _ You certainly have some nerve, boy! I wouldn't have thought you'd have the audacity to even speak to me after... after what you did to my daughter!"  
The otherwise unflappable General was very nearly apoplectic with rage.

Ben's eyes flashed and he shot out a hand to depress the emergency stop button, stranding them between levels with no way out.

Tycho Celchu gaped at the Jedi.  
"What exactly do you think you're doing?!"

Ben folded his arms across his chest and looked back calmly.  
"I believe this is as good an opportunity as any to talk, General. I have some explaining to do which you have never given me the chance to."

General Celchu, still fuming, looked away.  
"I have no interest in what you might have to say to me, Skywalker. I have already heard as much as I wished to."

Ben persisted steadfastly.  
"How is she?"

"Who?"

"Gwen."

"How do you think she is?"  
The General's tone was bitter.

Ben bit his lip in remorse and passed a weary hand through his hair.  
"I...I'm so sorry," he mumbled softly.  
"I- I truly never intended to hurt her."

"Well, perhaps if you'd truly loved her, you wouldn't have."

Ben bit back the surge of anger that coursed through him at this derisive statement and chose instead to look into his opponent's eyes.  
"I did love her," he began, pronouncing each word with care,"I loved her until I couldn't anymore."

"Don't try and sway me with your melodrama, Skywalker! You betrayed her love and trust!"

Slowly Ben nodded.  
"Yes. I admit, that I did. And I shall never stop regretting it. I...I only wish there had been another way, but I admit I let my feelings run away with me."

He looked up at the older man, searching desperately for a glimmer of sympathy in the unforgiving countenance. He found none.  
"I suppose you don't know what it's like to love someone so bad that it hurts. That you'd take any risk, even the chance of damning yourself just to have a shot at being together."

The older man continued to glare down at him.  
"I know what it is to love my daughter, young man. And I know what I feel like doing to the boy who breaks her heart."

Ben stared at the durasteel floor of the turbo-lift, his shoulders slumped against the plain wall behind.  
"I loved Gwen enough to not want to lie to her. And after I met Myri... well, continuing our relationship would have been a lie. I loved her enough that I wanted to be the one to break the news to her, not have her find out behind my back. I will always care about her, Uncle Tycho. But Myri is the one I love."

He steeled himself and looked into Tycho's unforgiving glare.  
"Betraying her is a regret I shall take to my grave. When Myri told me she wanted me, I said no. I was going to be faithful to Gwen, I would have done my duty. Except that my heart betrayed me first. When I look into her eyes, I am lost. I am hers. I have always been hers. And that's the truth."

The iciness in General Celchu's gaze would have made a lesser man wither.  
"You never deserved her, Skywalker. But she still loved you."

Ben sighed.  
"I know. Please, tell her I'm sorry."

"She's heard your sorrys too many times. You better come up with something better than that."

Ben's jaw clenched and he clutched his hands into fists so hard, his knuckles turned white.  
"You mean _you _ need something better than a sincere apology, don't you? Well, then, know this. I don't have Myri any more than I have Gwen. Uncle Wedge made sure of it. I don't have a heart anymore because you made it personal."

He was hard put to keep his emotions under control as the anguish from his memories bubbled up within him. He shut his eyes and breathed in deeply to push them down. A slight frown of confusion passed over the General's face, but he too quickly resumed his steely composure.

"I'm sure I cannot blame Wedge for his actions."

Ben opened his eyes and Tycho Celchu saw that they had assumed a frosty hardness themselves.  
"Blame? No. I'm sure you wouldn't blame Uncle Wedge for what he did to us."

He continued to stare at the older man with an inscrutable expression and ever so slightly, Tycho felt himself get a little perturbed under his hard lifeless stare.

"It's over. You win, Uncle Tycho. Congratulations."

He hadn't realized when the turbo-lift had started moving again, but the double doors opened with a soft hiss and he saw the Jedi stride out of them, his robe billowing behind him, his boots clacking with almost military precision on the floor.

Tycho leaned back against the lift wall at the sudden dissipating of the tension and let out a long breath. As he ran his fingers through his hair, he suddenly realized they were trembling.  
For despite everything he had said to him, Ben's words had come as a shock. He hadn't anticipated things would be taken this far. And_ he_ had been responsible!  
Ben's words came back to him, replaying themselves in his ears. The boy truly did seem to have his heart set on Myri. Then perhaps it had been a good thing he hadn't strung Gwen along only to disappoint her at the end.

_I suppose you don't know what it's like to love someone so bad that it hurts._

But he did! And he would never have wanted to stand in the way of a love that was true. But apparently, in all likelihood, he just had.

Tycho looked on in the wake of the Jedi Knight, now long gone, a hint of sorrow and remorse creeping into his ice blue eyes.

_Emperor's bones!_ he thought to himself, _What have I done?!_


	69. Skywalker

**Skywalker**

"Must be hard, huh? Living with that name."

Junior Lieutenant Ben Skywalker paused in pulling out essentials from his GAG locker, but didn't turn. He knew by now who it was.  
Instead, he shrugged.  
"I'm used to it."

The older man, but lower in rank, smirked behind his back.  
"Sure. Guess you had to."

Ben sighed silently to himself and resumed packing his kit bag.  
The new recruit, Powell, though not a part of Ben's unit, the 967 Commandos, had a locker beside him and still couldn't seem to get over the fact that his locker neighbour was the son of the famous Luke Skywalker.

And at a time when Ben was facing considerable strife within his own family. He didn't seem to want to face his father anymore. He was tired of fighting with him, arguing with him. About Jacen, about staying on in the GAG, about doing what so obviously needed to be done! Couldn't he _see_ that?!  
And to top it all, now he had this new Powell guy, rubbing his family in his face.  
_Yes! Sometimes it's painful being Luke Skywalker's son, but I can't really help that, now, can I, bantha-brain?!_

Ben hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and was almost about to leave when,  
"Think you'll be able to live up to him?"  
This guy just didn't know when to stop!

Ben froze in his tracks, then turned to face him slowly, pulling a mask over his eyes.  
"I'm sorry?"

"I said, do you think you'll be able to live up to him? Luke Skywalker's a legend, you know. My old man used to tell me he saw him once, in some procession here on Coruscant."  
Powell's eyes were blissfully oblivious of the effect his words were having on the young teenager.

Ben had to bite back hard on the heat boiling up inside him in reaction to his compatriot's callous statements and work on maintaining an impassive exterior.

"I'm doing my best," he responded, carefully keeping his voice level, "I guess we'll just have to wait and see. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm getting late for a briefing."

Powell raised his hand in a farewell wave, but Ben had already turned away and was walking at a furious pace. He knew he shouldn't have let the rookie needle him, but truth be told, he'd managed to touch a deep insecurity he harboured within himself.  
Would he ever be worthy of the name of Skywalker? Would he ever be even a fraction of the legend his father was?  
Ben had his own doubts about that.

His father wore greatness like a custom-fitted mantle. He always seemed to know what to do. He was always so certain, so self-assured. He had an innate connection to the Force that Ben found hard to match even now, years after Jacen had helped him open up to it.  
Something within him told Ben to be patient, but he paid it no heed.

_Jacen._ He had to find Jacen. He was the only one who might be able to lead him to power and greatness. The greatness that he sought. To be worthy of bearing the last name, Skywalker.


	70. Revenge

**Revenge**

**_[ A/N: Inspired by Zolo77's "Girls" Chapter 7- Reminiscent. Thanks for the idea, Zolo! Cheers!]_**

Little Ben Skywalker was wide awake at a time he really shouldn't have been. He crouched a little lower behind the living room couch as he heard the shuffling footsteps outside, and smiled mischievously to himself. Eventually, the apartment entryway cycled open with a sigh, and a tall figure stepped through. He walked forward, not bothering to turn on the lights, seeming exhausted.

All of a sudden, Ben flew at him with a yell.  
"Daddy!"

The man who had just entered staggered under the impact of the collision as well as from surprise. He caught the boy as he jumped into his arms and gestured for the lights.

"Ben?" he asked, blinking at the sudden radiance, a little disoriented.

Ben pulled back from his father, his nose wrinkling, a small frown creasing his forehead.  
"Daddy? You smell funny..."

Luke Skywalker cleared his throat and attempted to pull himself together.  
"Ben, what are you doing up at this hour? It's way past your bedtime!"

Ben studied his father for a second.  
"Then it's also too late for you to be getting back," he pointed out cleverly, "Where were you, Daddy?"

Luke passed a weary hand over his face, wishing the world would stop spinning for a moment. This would have to wait until morning.  
"I was busy," he said shortly, marching his son towards his bedroom and trying to muster enough authority so as not to have to brook further questions from him tonight.  
"And it's time we were_ both_ in bed!"

* * *

"Daddy? Daddy, wake uuup!"

Somehow the world still hadn't stopped spinning since last night and he felt as though it had barely been a few minutes since he'd stumbled into bed beside his sleeping wife. So why was the boy up again?

He cracked open an eye to find the bedroom flooded with sunlight and two bright cerulean eyes peering at him inquisitively over the coverlet. He sighed. Ben was wide awake, which left very little chance that he would be allowed to sleep in any longer. He turned over with a grunt, only to find the sheets on the other side of the bed empty and cool.

"Where's your mother?" he managed to ask, perplexed.

"She left! She said you were going to make me breakfast today. Come on, Daddy! I'm _starving!_"  
_  
_Luke let out an audible groan, realizing that his wife had probably realized the mishaps of the night before and had already planned out her retribution. He got out of the warm sanctuary of the sheets, albeit reluctantly, and tried to bring his mind back into focus. The red-haired, blue-eyed bundle of energy that was his five-year old gazed back at him expectantly, hopping in anticipation at the foot of the bed. Luke sighed._ Breakfast with Daddy._ This meant he would not be satisfied with anything less than pancakes.

* * *

Mara gave him a wide berth all day, giving him ample chance to recollect and ruminate on all that had transpired the night before. He mentally chastised himself.  
_  
They were far too old to have been drinking the way they had drunk the night before. Damn the Corellians!_  
This had to have been Han's fault! Or Corran's. Or maybe even Wedge's. The last thing he remembered was being challenged to a drinking game against Gavin Darklighter._ Janson!_ Of course! _He_ had been the one who had come up with the bantha-brained idea for the competition, pitting the two natives of Tatooine against each other! _'Sand people',_ he'd said, _don't know how to drink. They can get drunk just on water!_  
Well, of course Gavin and he had come to their home-planet's defence at once, even though they had both been several drinks down already. One always ran the risk of doing something stupid at a no-wives, squadron-only party.  
_Like listening to Janson._

Mara returned late in the evening, wearing a triumphant little smirk.  
"You two boys have a good day?"

Nursing a bad hangover, Luke had had to keep a hyperactive Ben entertained all day. At times, his head had felt like the Death Star exploding!

He gave her a meaningful look to which she simply responded with an even broader smirk.

When they were finally alone, she asked,  
"Learnt your lesson?"

He gazed at her reproachfully.  
"I think the hangover was punishment enough."

Mara's eyes twinkled.  
"To that, add a five-year-old and stir."

Luke made a hand movement of his head exploding and grinned sheepishly.  
"Well? Was that torture enough? Are you satisfied, my lady Hand? May I be let off the hook now?"

Mara raised one perfect eyebrow.  
"Oh? But I'm afraid I'm going to need a _personal _ apology from you, Master Skywalker. And the heartfelt assurance that you will never,_ never _ pull something like this again..."  
Her voice had gone deep and her eyes dark.

Luke felt the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of his own lips.

"I'm not going to be happy... until you've made it up to me for leaving me alone last night."  
She motioned very pointedly towards their bedroom.

But before Luke could follow her in, a curious voice piped up from the region of his waist.  
"Mommy's mad at you for staying out late last night, huh?"

Luke heaved a mock sigh and ruffled Ben's hair.  
"She sure is, buddy."

Ben frowned.  
"Couldn't you just tell her you were busy? I'm sure she'll understand."

Luke bent down to his level as he responded.  
"Your mother's going to want a better explanation than that, Ben," he said, giving him a wink.

Little Ben was baffled.  
"What kind of an explanation, Daddy?"

His father laughed and tweaked his nose affectionately.  
"You'll understand that when you get a girlfriend or a wife of your own!"

Ben made a face.  
"Ewww! I don't ever _want _ to get a girlfriend! Girls are _stupid _!"

A mischievous twinkle danced in Luke's eyes.  
"Oh I certainly hope you _do_ get a girlfriend some day, Ben. I want to be there to see the look on your mother's face when she finds out!"

And with that, he walked off purposefully in the wake of his wife, leaving behind a very puzzled five-year old attempting to work out his parents' convoluted riddles.


	71. Role-model

**Role- model**

It was a little too early in the afternoon for anyone to be returning home. Which was why Mirax Terrik Horn frowned as the door chime buzzed impatiently, rousing her from her semi-lethargic siesta in front of the HoloNet. She walked over to open the door curiously, wondering whether her husband or either of her children had forgotten something when they'd left for the day.  
Which was why she was taken utterly by surprise to find a sparkle-eyed little red-haired boy standing on her doorstep.

They both blinked at each other for a second.

"Hi Aunt Mirax. Is Valin home?"

"Ben?"

Mirax seemed to have finally found her voice.

"Uh, no. He's out. Why don't you come in and wait for a bit? He should be back soon enough."

Young Ben Skywalker didn't hesitate to accept her invitation, and as if by instinct, raced towards the kitchen.  
As Mirax trailed after him, she idly wondered what connection a sprightly seven-year old boy might have with her 20 year-old son.

Mirax allowed an indulgent smile to flit across her face as she listened to Ben's endless chatter as he bounced on his chair at the kitchen table over chocolate milk and a slice of ryshcate. It had been a long time indeed since there had been a child's infectious enthusiasm lighting up their house. She listened with an absorbed expression on her face as Ben expostulated the daring feats of his current hero, Jacen Solo, how he could fling away giant battle droids and decimate entire armies of opposition almost single-handedly, how he could fly a starfighter, even through a supernova and hide so well in the Force that he might never be found!

She almost didn't even see her husband come in and stand in the kitchen doorway, a similarly fond smile gracing his features. Mirax's eyes danced with undisguised mirth as they met Corran's and he walked in silently and lifted the boy up off his chair. Ben reacted with a little yelp, caught by surprise.

"I see Jacen hasn't yet taught you to always be mindful of the Force, my young padawan," he commented, all too seriously, turning Ben around to face him.  
"You should have been able to sense me coming."

Ben flushed scarlet at being caught out and bit his lip in repentance.  
"Sorry, Master Horn", he mumbled, apologetically.

The Jedi Master set the boy on his feet and looked to his wife.  
"What's he doing here?"

"He came looking for Valin."

"Valin?"  
Corran frowned.  
"Did he tell you to meet him here?"

Ben shrugged nonchalantly.  
"No. I thought he might be here, so I came to find him."

The pensive frown remained on the older man's face.  
"Last time I saw him today, Val was in the Temple..."

"Not anymore."

All three occupants of the kitchen swivelled around to find a handsome young man with light brown hair striding into the apartment, an easy smile on his face.

"You have a visitor", his mother indicated with a nod.

"I can see that, Mom."

He looked to the little boy.

"Ready to go?"

Ben nodded enthusiastically.  
"Sure!"

"Come on, then."

Ben scampered off after his much older companion as he headed toward his room.

The Horns watched them go, equally perplexed expressions adorning both their faces. But in a few moments the mystery was resolved as strains of music began to filter out from behind the door alongwith the irregular thump of a novice percussionist.

"Well, whaddya know? Our kid's already got himself an apprentice!"

Mirax nodded slowly.

"I think it'll be good for him. For both of them."

Corran regarded her askance, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.  
"You think Valin's a better role model for him than Jacen Solo?"

Mirax smiled as she looped her arms around her husband's neck to pull him down for a kiss.  
"I trust Valin over Jacen Solo any day, Corran. After all, he's my son. And I'm proud of him."


	72. Body

_**[A/N: Just a bit of naughty fun set after my fic "The Apartment". Enjoy!]**_

"Not there, sweetie. Lift it a little higher up."

"There?"

"Hang on, just a moment... Let me check."

Myri Antilles-Skywalker looked over at her elder sister and her brows shot up in amusement as a smirk quirked the ends of her lips. She left the large box she was unpacking and sauntered over to her.

"I see", she drawled in an undertone, "Verrry nice, sis!"  
She winked at her sister who secretly smirked back.

Syal Antilles-Horn's husband, Valin, had his back towards them and was standing precariously on a hover-chair, trying to hang up a decorative painting in their new living room. He was dressed only in loose trousers, leaving his torso bare, and at that moment, Syal had him positioned just so his muscles rippled across his back and one could catch the barest glimpse of an elaborate tattoo girdling his hip, just below the waistband.

It hadn't taken Myri even a second to figure out exactly how Syal was manipulating him into getting as much enjoyment out of the moving process as she could. She appeared to be taking her own sweet time about deciding on the positioning of the picture and Myri could see her heated gaze passing down the spectacle before them.

She sighed exaggeratedly, feeling like a veteran in this case. She remembered when she and Ben had been newly-weds, moving into an apartment of their own and she had enjoyed the view of her own husband's well-toned musculature hauling boxes and furniture around. You had to give it to the Jedi. They knew how to maintain an impressive physique!

After admiring the sight for a few seconds more, Valin still waiting patiently for his wife's opinion, she leaned in towards her sister conspiratorially.

"He's a Jedi, you know," she whispered, "He might just catch onto what you're thinking."

Her elder sister gave her a sharp nudge in the ribs, but she could see her eyes still lingering on the male form in front of her.  
She grinned to herself as she wandered away.

* * *

Later, Ben and Valin were sharing the task of washing up the Horns' speeder. It was a bright day outside and sweat glistened on the two young men's well-bronzed bodies.

Valin cast a glance towards his younger friend.

"Putting on quite a tan, bro. Your wife get you to do all the dirty work for her?"

Ben arched a look towards Valin and Syal's apartment window where the girls were visible, sharing lemonade and sisterly laughs.

"You do realize why they're making us do this, don't you?" he asked, pausing in his work and leaning his elbows on the hood.

Valin looked back blankly.

Ben rolled his eyes.  
"Aw c'mon, dude. You know it, I know it. We're young, fit and we've got it where it counts. Ain't no harm in flaunting what they've got, is there? Think about it. This stuff has always driven girls wild!"

He indicated his firm, flat abs then looked meaningfully over at Valin.  
"Piece of advice, bro? You wanna keep things moving after marriage, you wash speeders, you fix X-wings and droids, you move whatever it is she wants moved around the house... and you do it all with your shirt off!"

He gave his awe-struck friend a sly lop-sided grin.  
"And invite her over to the Temple some day to watch you spar. You won't be able to get her hands off you that entire night!"

He winked.  
"Trust me, it works!"


	73. Again

**_[Set within the novel Fate of the Jedi: Conviction, the battle between the Jedi and the Lost Tribe+ Abeloth on Nam Chorios.]_**

_It's happening again._

Ben felt the wave of despair wash over his heart and had to fight to keep his blade steady to block.

Another brother overwhelmed by hate.

He searched Valin's hazel eyes desperately, but there seemed to be not the faintest trace of recognition in them anywhere.  
He moved swiftly, defending, blocking, parrying away the attacks the older and more experienced Knight kept raining down on him, but he never made a move to attack.

_I can't,_ he told himself.  
_Valin's my bro! My best friend! I can't kill him! I won't._

But whether the converse held true, he could not tell.

Valin was fighting like a man possessed. He appeared convinced that his opponent wasn't the boy he had taken under his wing when he'd been no more than a toddler, the boy who had grown up regarding him as more than a friend, as the brother he'd never had, the one with whom he'd shared countless hours of sheer happiness, lost in their music-making, escaped from one scrape after another, traded bawdy jokes over bottles of beer, picked up girls and taught how to dance.

They had once done everything together, but suddenly none of it mattered any more. His eyes glowed with venom and his lips were curled back in a savage snarl. Ben realized he might just lose this fight not because of a lack of skill but simply because he wouldn't be able, in all conscience, to strike down his best friend.

_Abeloth!_

She had haunted his footsteps from his very infancy. As if it wasn't enough that she'd gotten into his head when he'd been little more than a baby, now she had managed to sabotage his best friend as well!

No. Enough was enough. This ended now. He had suffered one mentor falling prey to the madness of the dark side, he would not allow another.  
Valin had to be saved. He would save him. He would defeat Abeloth single-handed if he had to, but he would not let Valin fall.

Not again. Never again.


	74. Duty

_**Set in the 'Myri and Me'-verse.**_

**Duty**

She knew what he was going to say almost before he said it.

"I- I'm sorry, honey, but... I can't..."

Her heart crashed, tears of frustration welling in her eyes, her hands bunching up into useless fists, even though she had been expecting this. Dreading this.

"You know I have my duty."

_'Duty!' _ she thought angrily,_ 'Damn duty to the thrice-damned Jedi Order!'_ and immediately regretted thinking it.

If it had been CorSec, or Rogue Squadron or even CSF, would she have hesitated turning down her husband's plea to come home?

She hated to think it, but no. She would have done exactly the same thing in his place. She would have done her duty.

But she hated being stuck on Coruscant when he was so far away, on Force only knew which planet this time.

And deep in her gut, she knew what held her back from running out to join him.

_Duty. A job. Responsibilities._

All the same as him.

Myri leaned her head against the transparisteel of the giant window in their empty apartment.

_'Ah, Ben,'_ she thought, closing her eyes,_ 'When did we become like this? _  
_When did our duties start pulling us apart?'_


	75. Gamble

**Gamble**

_"I don't know what kind of spacesick got hold of you, but that's my __**nephew**__ you set up!"_

_"I know, Han."_

Troy Denning, _Invincible_

* * *

**_[A/N 1: Set within LoTF: Invincible]_**

Han was breathing hard, in and out, in and out, his chest thumping with the barely contained fury alternating hot and cold within him. He could empathize well with Leia's swelling rage beside him.

Had Luke snapped? Had it finally all gotten too much and had he finally caved in to his inner emotional turmoil? Because for the life of him, Han couldn't figure out a reason behind this fool's errand. What had Luke been _thinking?! Sending Ben walking straight into Tahiri's trap, and therefore Caedus' clutches..._ _His own son!_ His _only _ son!

Han was simply flabbergasted. There was no reason he could even think of that could possibly justify such a suicidal course of action. His heart constricted with the fear he felt for his nephew. How come his father was unable to feel the same? Caedus had already tortured him once. This time, if he got hold of him again, maybe he wouldn't waste any further time in finishing him, and thereby, finishing the Jedi Grand Master.

Because Han knew, as only a father can know, Luke would not be able to survive the loss of his son.

He looked deep into his best friend and brother-in-law's eyes. The once clear and hopeful blue had darkened to resemble deep sunken wells of black. He searched for fear and desperation, but he found only a cold ruthless calculation. No, Luke hadn't lost it. Not yet. He had a plan. Undoubtedly crazy, but still a plan. And he was drawing on all the courage he had to send Ben out as bait.

With a start Han realized what Luke was doing. _He was pulling a Solo! _ He was playing a dangerous bluff and forcing himself to ignore the odds! But how much harder must it be for him! Atleast Han, not being a Jedi, didn't have to worry about the Force whispering to him, showing him visions of the possible future, reminding him of the odds against him. Atleast he could take refuge in blind luck.

But Luke could see, no doubt had already seen, the chance that he might never get his son back alive. Han swallowed and turned away, forced to admire the Grand Master's depths of courage once more. He was taking a huge gamble with this. A gamble he didn't even know if he would win.

_**[A/N 2: Yes, people, it is truly I and no, I'm not dead. Not yet! My Star Wars muse has abandoned me of late, which is the primary reason behind my rather lengthy hiatus. This was pretty much like dredging the bottom of the barrel. Gah! Writer's Block! How cruel, cruel you are!]**_


End file.
